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THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 




" 'lo thou likewise SHALT BE KiNo' " — Page 290 



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THE STORY OF 

IDYLLS OF THE KING 

ADAPTED FROM 

TENNYSON 
By INEZ N. iVlcFEE 




rRBDBBXCK.*A*STOKE6 COMEANY 
PTJBUSHBRS 



Copyright, igi2, by 
Frederick A. Stokes Company 



All rights reserved 




September, IQ12 







n 

'4 ci.A3:eo228 



INTRODUCTION 

THE stories sketched herein are for the most part founded 
on Tennyson's " Idylls of the King." The aim of the 
writer has been to put the subject matter of the " Idylls " 
into readable form for young readers, — to lay a foundation, as 
it were, for Tennyson's tales. They are stories of " noble 
chivalry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friend- 
ship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin." 

Before reading these tales the young reader should know that 
King Arthur was a good and wise king who ruled over parts of 
England in the sixth century. In those days England was divided 
into a number of petty kingdoms, each ruled by its own king, and 
Arthur was the wisest and best of these rulers. Indeed, so great 
was he, that he conquered a large number of his neighbor kings, 
and finally came to be the ruler of all Western, or Celtic England. 
He was so chivalrous and kind, so wise and just, that people every- 
where sang his praises. Story after story about him was handed 
down from one generation to another, until, even before print- 
ing came into use, writers of many lands took him for the highest 
type of chivalrous gentleman. He was made to stand for all that 
was good and pure in life, and his name became a household watch- 
word. 

A writer named Mallory gathered the Arthur stories together 
and had them published in one book. He called his work " Morte 
d'Arthur." Tennyson got much of the material for his " Idylls " 
from Mallory, but each author added to the original records to 
suit his own fancy. Thus, Arthur really reigned in the sixth 
century, but Mallory put him into a setting of feudal chivalry and 
knighthood at its highest flower, which was actually reached in the 
twelfth century. Tennyson went farther and put in conversation 
and happenings of his own day and age. Therefore, while the 

V 



vi INTRODUCTION 

story of Arthur Is beautiful and Inspiring, It Is not exactly true to 
his time. But this fact does not In any way affect the Interest of 
the tale. 

The traveler over Great Britain finds everywhere mementos 
of Arthur. From " Arthur's Seat " at Edinburgh to " Arthur's 
Castle of TIntagll " In Cornwall, his name Is In the air. Win- 
chester claims to have been the seat of Arthur's royal palace — 
the city spoken of In the tales as Camelot. Bamborough Castle In 
Northumberland boasts of having been " Joyous Card," the home 
of Lancelot, Arthur's best-loved knight; while Guilford In Surrey 
Is said to have been the home of " the lily maid of Astolat," who 
died for love of Lancelot. Devonshire Is known as the home of 
Geraint, one of Arthur's strong knights, and Glastonbury Is the 
traditional " Island-valley of Avalon " whither Arthur passed at 
the close of the tales. It was to Glastonbury, we are told, that 
Joseph of Arlmathea conveyed the Holy Grail after the Saviour's 
death, and there the Feast of the Pentecost was always faithfully 
observed by Arthur and his knights. 

Tennyson uses his *' Idylls " to point a moral. In some respects 
he makes them a tale of " Paradise Lost." In the beginning, he 
shows us Arthur's kingdom — a creation bright and fair, perfect 
In every way. The blight of sin, however, creeps in at last and 
gradually spreads corruption, until all ends In what seems to be 
defeat and failure; but through the clouds we can see the sun shin- 
ing, and we feel that Arthur's life has not been lived In vain. We 
do not deal with the moral In our rendering of the stories. We 
give them for their pictures of chivalrous times, for their beauty 
of thought and action, and for their portrayal of right, truth, and 
might conquering over wrong. It Is our hope that young readers 
will profit from acquaintance with the brave, and courteous knights, 
and the pure, true, beautiful ladies around whom the tales are 
woven, and be led to realize the truth of the saying: " Do after 
the good, and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame 
and renown." 



CONTENTS 

THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

PAGE 

Introduction . v 

CHAPTER 

I How Arthur Came to be King i 

II The Founding of the Round Table . . . io 

III Arthur's Best Friend 20 

IV The Marriage of Arthur 31 

V Arthur's Enemies at Court 39 

VI Gareth of Orkney ,., . 49 

VII The Story of Geraint and Enid . . . . 75 

VIII The Lily Maid of Astolat . . . . . .103 

IX The Search for the Holy Grail . . ,. . 132 

X Guinevere ,..,... 147 

XI The Passing of Arthur .... ., ,., . 162 

IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Dedication t.. ,., . 175 

The Coming of Arthur „, ,., ,., . 176 

The Round Table 

Gareth AND Lynette . . . .... ,., ,. . 187 

The Marriage of Geraint . . . . ,., . .217 

Geraint and Enid ,.,,... 235 

vii 



vili CONTENTS 



PAGE 



Balin and Balan 256 

Merlin and Vivien .269 

Lancelot and Elaine . 289 

The Holy Grail 3^9 

Pelleas and Ettarre 339 

The Last Tournament ........ 35 i 

Guinevere 3^8 

The Passing of Arthur 3^2 

To the Queen » • 392 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

" ' Thou art not knight but knave ' " Cover '''' 

" ' Lo, THOU LIKEWISE SHALT BE KING ' " Frontispiece "/ 

FACING PAGE 

" For TWO hours more they fought " 26 ^ 

" The princess drew back blushing " 32 "^ 

" ' Damsel, let me first see this cloak upon you, that i may 

THE better observe IT ' " 48 / 

"And IN THE FLAME WAS BORNE A NAKED BABE " 184 .' 



"A CITY OF SHADOWY PALACES " ^94 

" ' Here by God's rood is the one maid for me ' " 226 i' 

" And the dead, oared by the dumb, went upward with the 

flood" 314 ' 

" ' And down the long beam stole the Holy Grail ' " . . . . 322 «■ 

" ' I shall never make thee smile again ' " 368 

" ' Yea, little maid, for am i not forgiven ? ' " . . . . . . 382 ' 



IX 



THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

CHAPTER 1 

HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 

KING UTHER Pendragon lay dying. He was sore at 
heart and sadly troubled. His spirit could not bear to 
leave the earth, for he had no heir to succeed him. 
Loudly did he mourn, and all his attendants were filled with pity. 
Merlin, the great wizard, and his master Bleys were sent for, and 
tried in vain to comfort him. 

At last the two wise men went out from the King's presence, 
and paced along the shore beside the sea. They were sad and 
troubled, for they could think of no way in which their magic might 
help their beloved King. It was night — a dismal night, " in 
which the bounds of Heaven and earth seemed lost." Suddenly, 
from out the blackness, a dragon-winged ship loomed up at sea. 
Bright and all shining she was, and there were many people on her 
decks. But only a glimpse the two wise men had ere she passed 
from sight. Then master and pupil stood silently watching the 
great waves rise and fall. Wave after wave came in, each mightier 
than the last, until finally the ninth one, " gathering half the deep 
and full of voices, slowly rose and plunged roaring, and all the wave 
was in a flame, and down the wave and in the flame was borne a 
naked babe, that rode to Merlin's feet." 

Quickly the old wizard caught up the child. " The King! " he 
cried. " Here is an heir for Uther ! " 

As he spoke, the fringe of the great breaker, swooping up the 
strand, lashed at him and rose all around him in fire, so that he and 

I 



2 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

the child were clothed in flame. Then the fire died down, a peace- 
ful calm fell, and stars and sky were bright and clear. 

Straightway Merlin and Bleys hurried to the castle, and great 
was the rejoicing when the glad tidings were borne throughout the 
court that an heir had been given to Uther from the deep sea. The 
old King was glad and happy indeed, and his spirit passed from 
his body in peace. But he did not die until he had blessed the 
child and commanded two knights and two ladies to take it, 
wrapped in cloth-of-gold, and deliver it to a poor man they would 
find waiting at the outer gates of the castle. The wise old King 
knew that when he was dead the babe's life would be in danger, 
and that many of his wicked, unscrupulous nobles would try to take 
the throne. 

Now the old man at the gate was Merlin in disguise, but the 
knights and ladies knew it not. He bore the babe secretly away, 
and carried him to Sir Anton, an old friend of King Uther's. The 
good knight had the child christened by a holy priest, naming him 
Arthur. Then his wife took the babe and nursed him and reared 
him with her own children. 

Great was the speculation at court as to where the child had 
gone, and strife and trouble arose among the more powerful nobles 
as to who should rule in King Uther's stead. But Merlin charged 
them, saying: 

" Have heed what ye do. The child is not dead. God will 
have His will; in His own good time He will bring forth Uther's 
heir and crown him King. And Uther's heir shall be greatest of 
all great kings; all his enemies shall fall before him. And be- 
fore he dies he shall long have been King of all England, and 
have under his rule Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, and more king- 
doms than are now known." 

The petty kings and nobles marveled at what Merlin said, 
and though they scoffed at him in secret, they dared not take the 
throne, for well they knew the wisdom of his prophecies. And for 
many years there were wrangling and bloodshed in the land. 



HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 3 

Knaves and cutthroats went their way undisturbed, and the country 
sank into decay. Wild men and people from over the sea plun- 
dered and laid waste the borderlands, and Terror rode barebacked 
over the hills and through the dales. At last Merlin went to the 
Archbishop of Canterbury and told him to make known to all the 
lords of the realm, and to all the gentlemen of arms, that if they 
would come to London at Christmas time, a miracle would be shown 
to them, revealing who was to be their King. Of course all the 
lords and gentlemen were eager to know who this might be, and 
long before dawn on Christmas Day the great church in London 
was packed with hopeful guests, who waited anxiously for the hour 
of prayer, after which the miracle was to be made known. 

When all had been permitted to file into the churchyard, there 
was seen a large, square marble block, having in its midst an anvil 
all of steel. In the anvil was stuck a beautiful sword, with naked 
blade. And on the sword were letterings and markings of gold, 
which, being interpreted, read: 

*' Whoso piilleth this sword from out this anvil and marble is 
the true King of all England." 

The people marveled, for the feat seemed easy; and there was 
some wrangling among the lords, for each of them wished to be 
King, as to who should have the first trial to draw out the sword. 
The question having been settled by the Archbishop after some 
difficulty, one after another went up and tried to draw the sword 
from the anvil. But no one could even make it stir. 

'* It is plain," said the Archbishop, " that the man is not here 
who can draw the sword. But doubtless God will make him known 
in good time. Let us issue a proclamation that there will be an- 
other trial on Twelfth Day. In the meantime, let us provide ten 
good knights to guard the sword." 

All was done as the Archbishop said. Then, as the nobles and 
gentlemen did not care to return to their homes and journey back 
again, it was arranged to have a great joust, or tournament, on 
New Year's Day. The Archbishop was glad of this excuse to 



4 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

keep the lords and the common people together, for he hoped that 
during the joust some sign would be given as to who should win 
the sword. 

Now It happened that Sir Anton lived on a large estate near 
London, and he decided to go up to the tournament with his son, 
Sir Kay, and young Arthur for his companions. When they had 
ridden a few miles on their journey. Sir Kay discovered that he 
had forgotten his sword. He was much dismayed, for he meant 
to take part in the tourneys, and he begged Arthur to ride back 
for it. This the sweet-tempered lad willingly consented to do, 
though by so doing he would miss a large part of the tournament. 
But the trip was a useless one, for when he arrived at the castle, 
he found that all the servants had set off across the fields for the 
tournament. There was no one to find the sword for him, and 
he was forced to turn back empty-handed. 

" Alas! " said he, " I will not go to my brother without a sword. 
He shall do his share In the tourney, even though It be late In the 
day. I will get me down to the churchyard and draw out the sword 
from the marble." 

When he had come to the churchyard and made fast his horse 
to the stile, he went to the tent which had been placed over the 
marble block, and peeped In. And lo ! the brave and trusted 
knights who had been left to guard the sword had stolen away to 
the tourneys ! Seizing the weapon by the handle, Arthur pulled it 
easily from the marble, mounted his horse, and rode away in search 
of Sir Kay, to whom he delivered the sword. 

Sir Kay recognized It at once, and, saying nothing of his In- 
tentions to Arthur, he spurred his horse to his father's side. Show- 
ing the sword to Sir Anton, he said, " Lo, Sir, here is the sword that 
was in the marble In the churchyard, wherefore I must be King 
of all England." 

Sir Anton was astonished. But he knew his son. Privately 
summoning Arthur, he made Sir Kay and the boy go quietly with 
him to the churchyard. There he examined the marble; then he 



HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 5 

drew them Into the church and sternly bade Sir Kay tell him the 
truth about the stone. 

"How is it that you now have the sword in your possession? 
You could no more draw it on Christmas Day than any other 
knight! " he demanded. 

Sir Kay knew his father was not to be deceived, so he answered 
truly: " My brother Arthur brought it to me." 

" Zounds! " exclaimed the old knight. " And how came you by 
it, boy?" 

Arthur told him. 

*' Then," said Sir Anton, " I see that you, lad, must be the des- 
tined King of our land." 

" I ! " cried Arthur in bewilderment, for he had not understood 
the true significance of the sword. " Wherefore I ? Are you 
dreaming, Father? Why should I be King? " 

" Because God will have it so," answered Sir Anton solemnly, 
uncovering his head. " Know you not, lad, that it has been or- 
dained that whosoever pulleth this sword from the marble shall 
be King? It is a sign from the Great Ruler on high. Now, 
that there may be no mistake, let us see if you can put the sword 
back in its place and draw it out again." 

" Surely, Sir, that is easy ! " answered Arthur, and straightway 
led the way to the churchyard. 

Lightly he hurled the gleaming steel into the center of the anvil. 
Then Sir Anton took hold of the sword and tried to draw it out, 
but in vain. Sir Kay next tried with all his might to move the 
sword, but he could not stir it. 

" Nay," said Sir Anton, " you are not the man. Do you try, 
Arthur." 

And Arthur took hold of the sword and drew it forth easily. 
At this Sir Anton and Sir Kay knelt on the ground before him and 
bowed low their heads. 

" Alas," cried Arthur, " wherefore do you kneel to me, mine 
own dear father and my brother? " 



6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" Nay, my lord Arthur," answered good Sir Anton, " call' 
me father no more. You are not of our kin. None of my blood 
courses in your veins." 

Then he told Arthur how he had taken him from Merhn and 
brought him up as his own son; and how the wizard had said that 
Arthur was sent from heaven to be King. Arthur was deeply 
moved, but the thought that he might be the King paled before 
the loss of his good parents, and he was even more deeply grieved. 

Seeing this, the old knight said kindly: " Do not take it to 
heart, my lord Arthur. We will still be your friends, if it please 
you." 

" If it please me! " exclaimed Arthur. " What manner of man 
should I be if it did not please me? It would ill-behoove me to 
show aught but kindness and love to you and my good mother. Lady 
Eleanor, who have stood for so many years between me and the 
world. Nay, Sir Anton, if it should be that I have the good for- 
tune to be crowned King, ask what you will of me and the favor 
shall be granted, even unto the half of my kingdom." 

" Lord Arthur," replied the old knight, bowing low, " your kind- 
ness and courtesy do credit to the wise teachings of my good lady. 
I thank you. But I shall ask no more of you than that you make 
my son, Sir Kay, seneschal of all your lands." 

" Indeed," answered Arthur, " that will I do willingly. And, 
by my faith, no man but he shall fill that office while he and I live." 

Then Sir Anton counseled Arthur and Sir Kay to hold their peace 
till Twelfth Day, when Arthur might take his turn among all those 
who came to try for the sword. 

" For," said he, " no other man can take the sword, let him 
try as he may. You are the King that God has sent to save the 
land. It is best that you prove yourself before all the lords and 
common people." 

When Twelfth Day came, a great crowd again assembled, and 
all the mighty and powerful men of the kingdom tried In turn 
to draw the sword. But none of them could do It. Then Arthur 



HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 7 

•stepped out modestly from the ranks of the gentlemen and drew 
the sword with ease. At first the people were amazed. Then 
there was a great shout and a mutter of angry voices. How could 
all the great and powerful knights submit to be ruled by a mere 
boy, who had never even been knighted? It was with difficulty 
that the Archbishop of Canterbury and his assistants finally re- 
stored order. Then the Archbishop proposed that the question 
should not be decided till Candlemas, which is the second day of 
February, and to this all agreed. 

However, when Candlemas came, Arthur again was the only 
•one from among the vast throng assembled in the churchyard who 
could draw the sword. But the people were no better satisfied 
than before; so they agreed to have another trial on Easter Day. 
And again it happened that none but Arthur could take the sword. 
Once more it was agreed that another trial should take place — 
this time at the Feast of the Pentecost, commonly known as Whit- 
sunday, seven weeks after Easter. 

Now so bitter was the feeling against Arthur that Merlin was 
fearful lest he come to harm, so the wizard prevailed upon the 
Archbishop to send ten of Uther's best-beloved knights to serve 
the young King-to-be as a body-guard. They were to attend 
Arthur at all times, and never to leave him even for a moment, 
until the great day for the Feast of the Pentecost arrived. 

The people had now grown reckless over the choice of King, 
feeling that any full-grown man could rule more wisely than a mere 
stripling; so all manner of men were allowed to test their strength 
on the day of Pentecost. But all to no purpose, for none but 
Arthur could draw the sword. When for the fourth time he pre- 
vailed over all the knights and strong men of the land, a murmur 
ran through the crowd. A presentiment seemed to descend upon 
them. And all the common people fell upon their knees, crying: 

" Let Arthur be crowned King! We will take no other. He it 
is whom God has sent. Deny him no longer, lest a great pestilence 
come upon us. Long live Arthur, the King ! " 



8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Many of the knights now began to waver, and several of them 
came and knelt at Arthur's feet and implored him to forgive them 
for doubting him. This Arthur did readily, and, taking the sword, 
knelt and offered it on the altar before the Archbishop. Then he 
was knighted by the best man there. 

Arthur was crowned at once, in the presence of all the people, 
and there he swore to the lords and the common people to be a 
true king forevermore, and to rule the land with right and justice. 
On one side of him stood the wizard, Merlin, his beard whitened 
by the frosts of a hundred winters, and on the other stood the 
Lady of the Lake, who had appeared as though by magic, clothed 
in white samite, mystic and wonderful. A mist of incense curled 
about her, and her face was well-nigh hidden in the gloom. 

Just as the coronation ceremonies were over, the attention of 
the people was attracted toward the lake near by. And behold, a 
most wonderful sword rose above the waters in the center of the 
lake! 

"The mystic sword!" cried the Lady of the Lake. "Make 
haste, my lord Arthur, row out and secure it. Excalibur, mean- 
ing cut-steel, is his name. Strong and powerful is he. And with 
him in your hands no enemy can stand before you." 

" And mind you, O King," said the wizard, " secure you the 
scabbard, for it is ten times more powerful than the sword. While 
you have the scabbard upon you, you shall lose no blood, be you 
ever so sorely wounded." 

Thus admonished, Arthur lost no time in securing the sword. 
And a wonderful sword it was, with a blade so bright that men 
were blinded by it. " All the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, 
myriads of topaz-lights and jacinth-work of subtlest jewelry." On 
the hilt was engraved the " Elfin Urim," mysterious Hebrew jewels, 
having a hidden meanmg. Some say that this symbol consisted 
of four rows of precious stones on which were inscribed the names 
of the twelve tribes of Israel; others that it was formed of three 
stones, one of which indicated in some mysterious way the answer 



HOW ARTHUR CAME TO BE KING 9 

" Yes," the second " No," while the third was neutral. On one 
side of the blade was engraved in Hebrew, " Take me," but on 
the other side were the words '' Cast me away." When he had 
read the inscriptions, Arthur was at a loss what to do, and his face 
grew sad at the thought of throwing away the wonderful sword. 
But Merlin came to his aid. 

"Take the sword and strike!" he counseled. "The time to 
cast away is yet far off." 

And Arthur obeyed. 



CHAPTER II 

THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 

ARTHUR had scarcely been king an hour before complaints 
began to pour In upon him. Lords, knights, and ladles be- 
sought him to restore lands which had been taken from them, 
In one way and another, since the death of Uther. The widowed 
and the fatherless came to him for protection, and prayed him to 
give them aid In various causes. The King received all who sought 
him, for he had a kind heart and longed with all his soul to estab- 
lish order, truth, and justice throughout his realm. But many 
difficulties plunged him Into a sea of trouble, and he readily saw 
that he must have a band of faithful helpers. 

One of the first acts was to make Sir Kay seneschal of England, 
according to the promise given to Sir Anton. To him was en- 
trusted, as far as possible, the restoration of all lands to their proper 
owners. Arthur next remembered some old friends of King 
Uther's, Sir Baldwin, Sir Ulfius and Sir Brastlas. Sir Baldwin was 
made Constable of Britain, and Sir Ulfius, Chamberlain; while Sir 
Brastlas he appointed Warden of the country north of the River 
Trent. Of course a large part of the land over which these lords 
were supposed to hold sway was Arthur's realm only In name, 
as It was ruled by kings who were hostile to him. This land had 
to be conquered. To conquer it Arthur would need a large army; 
therefore he conceived the idea of founding an order called The 
Knights of the Round Table. 

These knights were to be chosen from the flower of the land. 
They were to be brave, true, chivalrous, loyal, ever ready to fight 
for the right and to champion the cause of the weak. A large 
number presented themselves at Arthur's call, and he took the 

lO 



THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE ii 

hands of each separately in his own, and, in a voice that trembled, 
bade the knighted make the following vow : 

" To reverence the King as if he were 
Their conscience, and their conscience as their King, 
To break the heathen and uphold the Christ, 
To ride abroad redressing human wrongs, 
To spealc no slander, no, nor listen to it 
To honor his own word as if his God's, 
To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, 
To love one maiden only, cleave to her, 
And worship her by years of noble deeds. 
Until they won her." 

So simple were the words of great authority, so strait were the 
vows to his majesty, that when the knights rose from kneeling 
" some were pale as at the passing of a ghost, some flushed, and 
others dazed, as one who wakes half-blinded at the coming of 
a light." Then, when he had finished knighting them, the King 
*' spake, and cheered his Table Round with large, divine, and com- 
fortable words," beyond the power of pen to tell. 

As he talked a miracle happened. From eye to eye through 
all their Order flashed a momentary likeness of the King; and ere 
it left their faces, through the casement over Arthur came three 
rays of beautiful light — flame-color, vert (green), and azure, 
one falling upon each of three fair Queens who stood in silence 
near his throne." 

Just who these three Queens were who attended King Arthur 
we do not know. Some say that they were the Queen Morgan le 
Fay, Arthur's sister, the Queen of Northgales, and the Queen of 
the Waste Lands. But others, and by far the greater number, 
say that they were mystic Queens sent from heaven to watch over 
the King, and that they were embodiments of the three cardinal 
virtues, Faith, Hope, and Charity. They always hovered near 
him; but only rarely were they visible to the eyes of the knights 
in attendance. 



12 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

The royal palace and the court of the Knights of the Round 
Table were to be established at Camelot. To Merlin was en- 
trusted the planning of the castle and the grounds, and the result 
was more than might have been expected even of a mighty wizard. 
It was indeed a city of enchantment — " a city of shadowy palaces 
and stately, rich in emblem and the work of ancient kings who did 
their days in stone." Here and there pinnacles and spires rose 
toward heaven, and everywhere were beautiful touches from the 
hand of Merlin the Mage, who knew all arts. 

A great wall was built all about the castle grounds, and the 
entrance thereto was not like any other gate under heaven: 

" For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined 
And rippled like an ever-fleeting wave, 
The Lady of the Lake stood : all her dress 
Wept from her sides as water flowing away; 
But like the cross her great and goodly arms 
Stretch'd under all the cornice and upheld : 
And drops of water fell from either hand ; 
And down from one a sword was hung, from one 
A censer, either worn with wind and storm ; 
And o'er her breast floated the sacred fish; 
And In the space to left of her, and right, 
Were Arthur's wars In weird devices done. 
New things and old co-twIsted, as If Time 
Were nothing, so Inveterately, that men 
Were giddy gazing there: and over all 
High on the top were those three Queens, the friends 
Of Arthur, who should help him at his need." 

Both the castle and wall, however, were many years In the 
building, and during all this time Arthur and his knights were 
waging the battle of truth and justice. " And now the Barons and 
little kings prevailed, and now the King, as here and there the 
war went swaying." But no enemy of Arthur could long hold 
out against Excalibur, which was so bright in his eyes that it gave 
the light of thirty torches; and Arthur's domain widened and 



THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 13 

lengthened daily, while the pure and noble deeds of the King 
and his knights uplifted and bettered all with whom they came in 
contact. Arthur and the noble knights of the Round Table were 
known far and wide, and everywhere they were both loved and 
feared. 

Perhaps the hardest struggle of all, was that with the Welsh 
kings and barons. They were most stubborn in their resistance 
against King Arthur. So, after he had conquered all England 
and won to himself many true and valiant knights, he went down 
into Wales and caused a great Feast of the Pentecost to be held 
in the city of Caerleon, hoping thus to please the people. To 
this feast came many great kings with large hosts of powerful 
knights. And Arthur rejoiced, for he thought they had come 
to do honor to him; and he sent messengers to them with rich 
presents. 

But the kings refused even to look at these, and repulsed the 
bearers with bitter scorn, saying that they would receive no gifts 
from a beardless boy of questionable blood. And they sent word 
to Arthur that they had come to bring him gifts, which they would 
deliver with sharp swords, betwixt the neck and shoulders. They 
charged the messengers to say plainly to Arthur that they had 
come to slay him, for they would never submit to the rule of a 
mere boy. 

Arthur and his lords took counsel together, and decided to en- 
trench themselves In a strong tower which was near at hand. 
Accordingly, five hundred picked knights were chosen, food was 
hastily gathered In, and the army fortified behind strong walls. 
Hardly were they safely settled, when the mighty Army of the 
Kings besieged them, but all to no purpose, for the strong walls 
of the tower sheltered them well. For fifteen days the siege 
lasted; then Merlin came Into the city. 

The kings welcomed him gladly, for the old wizard had many 
times worked powerful charms for them. 

" But," they demanded, " why Is this boy — this slender strip- 



14 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

ling, Arthur, a mere nobody, the chosen King of all your noble 
people? " 

" Because," answered Merlin sternly, " he is the Heaven-sent 
son of King Uther Pendragon. And it is not meet that ye fight 
against him, besides it will profit ye naught. Powerful is he and 
brave, endowed with God-given strength. All his enemies shall 
fall before him, and he shall be ruler over land and sea. Greater 
than all great kings shall he be, and all the people will bow before 
him and cry, ' All hail, the good King Arthur ! ' " 

There were some among the kings who heeded Merlin's words; 
but others, and those the more powerful, laughed scornfully, and 
muttered under their breath things not exactly complimentary to 
the old wizard. However, he gained from them a promise to 
listen to Arthur if he cared to come out and speak with them, and 
they assured him that Arthur would be allowed to come and go in 
peace. 

Then Merlin went to King Arthur. " Go out and speak boldly 
to them as their King and Chieftain," he advised. " And spare 
them not; neither be thou afraid, for thou shalt overcome them in 
spite of all," 

So Arthur hastily donned robes of peace over his heavy armor 
and went out to meet them. With him went Sir Kay, Sir Brastias, 
Sir Baldwin, and the Great Archbishop of Canterbury. Wisely 
and well did Arthur speak to the hostile kings, and never once 
did he fail to reply readily to the many questions which they asked. 
But his wisdom and gentle kindness did not impress them. They 
defied him, and Arthur told them sadly, but with spirit, that he 
would yet make them bow their heads in submission. Then the 
kings turned away in great wrath. 

After Arthur had gone back to the tower, Merlin turned to the 
kings, saying: " What will ye do? Ye had better disband quietly, 
for I say unto you that truly ye will never prevail. No, not were 
your number doubled unto ten times ten, for God is with Arthur 
and his knights." 



THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 15 

But the kings were angry and sore of spirit, and they said to 
him scornfully: " Since when have we taken advice from dream- 
ers?" 

Then Merlin faded swiftly from their sight, vanishing by magic, 
and the kings were troubled. They had no wish to anger the old 
wizard, lest he work some charm upon them. 

At once Merlin appeared before Arthur, counseling him 
fiercely: " Set upon yonder rebellious rascals this hour, and smite 
them. Go against them with weapons like their own; then, if the 
battle waxes against you, draw Excalibur and he shall win the 
victory." 

And it came to pass as Merlin had foretold. 

Within the hour Arthur and his knights fell upon the vast Army 
of the Kings, and for a time the battle waxed hot and fierce. 
Everywhere Arthur appeared in the thickest of the fight, until 
finally his horse was slain under him, and several of the rebel 
knights sprang upon him. Quickly he unsheathed Excalibur and 
waved him aloft. There was a light like that of thirty torches, 
low thunders rumbled, and lightnings played around, and the re- 
bellious kings and barons shrank together, afraid. Then Arthur 
and his knights pressed them close. Slowly they retreated; the 
citizens of Caerleon joined Arthur and fell upon them with clubs 
and stones, slaying many knights; and finally the remnant of the 
noble Army of the Kings broke and fled. 

And Merlin came to King Arthur and counseled him not to 
follow them. So Arthur and his knights returned to Camelot and 
held council as to what were best to be done. For Merlin had 
told them that the kings though defeated were not humbled, and 
would follow him into his own country to wreak vengeance upon 
him. 

At the council it was decided to send for Merlin and abide by 
his advice, and he came, saying: " I warn ye that your enemies 
are exceeding strong. They are as good men-at-arms as any in all 
the land. Since ye fought with them they have added four Scot- 



i6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

tish kings and a powerful duke, with their large companies of 
knights, to their number. If our King goeth out to meet them, 
even with all the able knights he can gather together in his realm, 
he will be out-numbered, overcome, and slain. 

" Now, if ye will, harken to my advice: Across the seas there 
live two strong and powerful brothers; kings they are. One is 
King Ban of Benwick, and the other King Bors of France. They 
have a very rich and powerful enemy, King Claudas, who worries 
them continually and against whom they cannot prevail. Now, 
let my lord King Arthur send two trusty messengers unto these 
kings and entreat them to come to our aid, promising in return to 
help deliver them from King Claudas." 

And the King and all his knights approved; so Ulfius and Bras- 
tias were chosen as messengers to the brothers. They started in 
great haste for the city of Benwick. In a narrow pass among 
the mountains they were set upon by eight knights from the court 
of King Claudas, but God was with them and they overcame, and 
left their enemies lying sorely wounded upon the field. 

At Benwick, very fortunately, they found both King Ban and 
King Bors, enjoying life in peace; for their enemy King Claudas 
and most of his knights had gone away over the borders for a big 
hunt. As soon as the kings learned that the messengers came 
from the court of Arthur and were of the Round Table, they wel- 
comed them most heartily, and summoned attendants to give them 
food and bind the wounds they had received upon their journey. 

Until morning the good knights tarried, and then set out upon 
the homeward journey with joyful hearts. Not only did they have 
\ about their persons as many rich gifts for King Arthur as they 

I could well carry, but they had something that was of far greater 

value — a promise from King Ban and King Bors to come to 
Camelot as soon as they could make ready, and help Arthur in his 
struggle with the rebellious Welsh and Scots. 

Great was the joy among the knights of the Round Table, 
when the good news was heard. Preparations were at once begun 



THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 17 

for a grand feast and tournament when the kings and their follow- 
ers should arrive. Arthur and a band of his most noble knights 
went twenty miles along the way to meet the expected guests, and 
most heartily did they greet them. The next day almost one 
thousand knights took part in the tourneys and enjoyed the bounti- 
ful feasts. King Arthur, King Ban, and King Bors, the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, old Sir Anton, and the ladies of Arthur's 
court sat on a platform covered with cloth-of-gold, and acted as 
judges of the contests. And a merry time every one had. It was 
the largest joust yet held in England. 

When the eleven rebellious kings marched up against Arthur, 
he and his allies were not only ready but waiting for them, and a 
battle was fought on the plains below Camelot. The great Army 
of the Kings was utterly routed, and Arthur acknowledged as King 
of Great Britain. His allies, the kings Ban and Bors, laden with 
rich presents, returned to their own countries, happy in the assur- 
ance that if their enemy, Claudas, ever again molested them, they 
had only to send to the court of Arthur to obtain the means neces- 
sary to quiet him forever. 

Scarcely had the foreign kings gone and Arthur and his noble 
knights settled down for a time of peaceful quiet, when guests 
arrived at Court. They were Bellicent, wife of King Lot of 
Orkney, with her sons, and a host of servants. Now Lot was 
one of the kings who had recently been engaged in the war against 
Arthur. But Queen Bellicent represented that she came in friend- 
ship, and told Arthur she had just discovered that she was his 
half-sister, being the daughter of Igraine, wife of Uther, by a 
former marriage. She was a very beautiful woman, and Arthur's 
heart went out to her. Pure and truthful himself, he was the last 
man in the world to detect falsehood, deceit, and cunning in an- 
other, so he made her most welcome. And not until her departure, 
a month later, did he learn that she had really come to him as a 
spy. 

All was revealed to him in a marvelous dream, which filled him 



i8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

with dread. It seemed as though there came into his land a large 
number of griffins and serpents which burnt and slew the people 
throughout the land. And Arthur thought that he went to battle 
with them and that, although they wounded him sorely, he finally 
succeeded in slaying them. 

"What does it mean?" he inquired of Merlin. 

" Ah, my Lord Arthur," answered the old man solemnly, " it 
was a gruesome dream, and it meant Treason. You have indeed 
entertained serpents in your court unawares for the past thirty 
days. They shall bite and sting like adders ! Queen Bellicent's 
son shall break up your noble order of the Knights of the Round 
Table, lay in waste the glories of Camelot, and slay you in battle." 

And Arthur was disheartened at the words, and drooped in ex- 
ceeding bitterness of spirit. 

But Merlin counseled him wisely: "Rebel not. It is God's 
will, and He doth all things well. Forget it ! I should not have 
told you, for it profits no man to know the Future ! Pray regard 
it as though you knew it not, my Lord Arthur. Live ever as the 
pure, blameless King, and when years hence, for it will be years 
hence, the end comes, you will receive your reward. Sorrow not, 
my lord, for you shall die an honorable death, but I — I shall die 
shamefully. I shall be buried alive ! " 

Arthur marveled much over the words of the wizard, and, later 
• he saw how faithfully this prophecy of doom was fulfilled, par- 
ticularly that about the magician's own sad ending. It seems that 
Merlin, old as he was, fell in love with Vivien, a beautiful but 
wicked maiden of Arthur's court. She enticed from the old man 
a great number of his magic secrets, and used them to further 
her own interests. At last Merlin became so deeply in love with 
Vivien that he could scarcely bear to have the maiden out of his 
sight, and she grew very weary of him. Moreover, she was 
afraid of him because he was a wizard. She feared that in one 
of his jealous frenzies he would work some charm upon her. 

Now, there was one charm the secret of which Merlin would 



THE FOUNDING OF THE ROUND TABLE 19 

never tell Vivien, though he frequently hinted of its great power. 
Of course, when she found he would not tell the secret, she was 
most anxious to know It, so she tried in every way to learn it. But 
Merlin was wise: he was aware of Vivien's feeling for him, and 
he knew that if she discovered the secret his life would be in dan- 
ger; for one who knew it could work a spell upon another that 
would put that other into a deep sleep; then the possessor of the 
charm could cause the ground, or a tree, to open, allowing him 
to roll the victim in and seal him up. 

But alas for Merlin ! He thought so much about the secret that 
daily it became harder for him to keep it. He had a presentiment 
that some day, In an unguarded moment, he would tell the charm. 
And sure enough he did! 

He and Vivien were sitting under a large oak tree In the Breton 
forest of Borceliande. A great weariness was upon Merlin, for he 
was very old, having lived three times the number of years 
usually allotted to man. He had not the strength to withstand 
Vivien's coaxing to tell him the secret and he yielded. Hardly 
had he told it to her when he felt a great drowsiness stealing over 
him. In a moment, he lay In a deep sleep, and Vivien stood over 
him, clapping her hands and laughing in wild glee. Then, with a 
few mysterious moves and passes, she caused the great tree to open, 
and roughly tumbled Merlin in. No sooner was he safely inside 
than the tree closed up again, — 

" And in the hollow oak he lay as dead, 
And lost to life and use and name and fame." 

And Vivien laughed and shrieked wildly, " I have made his 
glory mine. Fool ! O fool ! " she cried. Then she turned and 
sprang away through the forest, and the thicket closed behind her 
as the deep woods echoed " fool! " 



CHAPTER III 

Arthur's best friend 

AMONG King Arthur's knights was one, Sir Lancelot of 
the Lake, whom he loved with a love passing that of 
women. Sir Lancelot was one of the first to respond to 
Arthur's call, and he willingly left his beautiful castle " Joyous 
Gard " in Northumberland, to do the will of his " blameless, white 
king." Chief was Lancelot among all the brave and noble knights 
of the Round Table; in tournaments and jousts and deeds of arms 
he surpassed all others, and never was he overcome except by 
treason or enchantment. All over the land, next to good King 
Arthur, Sir Lancelot was loved and honored by high and low. 
Always he fought next to his king in battle, and well did his strong 
arm serve his master. 

Sir Lancelot loved excitement and the joy of the fray. He 
was never content to lounge at home, among the splendors of the 
court at Camelot. If adventure were not at hand, he went out 
in search of it, and many are the thrilling stories told of him. 
It is said that once, at a great tourney, he overthrew twenty-eight 
knights in quick succession, among them being the great and mighty 
King of North Wales. 

Legend has it that once, when affairs at the court were dull. Sir 
Lancelot, according to his custom, determined to go in quest of 
adventures. He set out with only one companion, his nephew. 
Sir Lionel, saying that he would not return until time for the great 
Feast of the Pentecost, which was always observed at Camelot, 
with great tourneys and much rejoicing. Days passed and noth- 
ing was heard from the adventurers, and finally time drew very 

20 



ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 21 

near to the Pentecost. Then Lancelot's brother, Sir Ector, grew 
anxious, and set out in search of the two men. 

Though not so strong as his brother Lancelot, Sir Ector was a 
brave and noble knight. So he rode boldly into the heavy forest 
for many miles in the direction in which his brother and his nephew 
had started. Finally he met a sturdy forester and inquired of 
him if there were any adventures to be found thereabout. 

" Yea," said the forester. " If you be a brave man, you can 
find all that you seek about a mile farther on, in the depth of the 
forest. There is a strong manor with a deep moat around it, 
and a ford where your horse may drink. Hard by is a beautiful 
tree all hung with many fair shields that once belonged to bold, 
true knights. In the midst of these hangs a brass and copper 
basin. If you smite angrily upon it three times with the butt of 
your spear, that which you seek will appear." 

Sir Ector rode forward at once. He knew well that if Sir 
Lancelot had passed that way, he had sought at once the adven- 
ture of which the forester told. As he came up to the tree and 
eagerly scanned the many shields, he recognized the shield of his 
nephew. Sir Lionel, and also those of several knights of the Round 
Table who had mysteriously disappeared. But of Sir Lancelot's 
shield there was no sign. Though he thanked Heaven for 
this, Sir Ector was both dismayed and disheartened, and very 
angry withal at the sight of these silent proofs of treachery done 
to his friends. So he smote angrily upon the basin three times, 
and rode his horse into the stream, to give him a drink. Scarcely 
had the animal satisfied himself, when a knight rode up behind 
Sir Ector and demanded that he come out of the water and pre- 
pare to defend himself. With a shout Sir Ector wheeled sharply, 
and smote the strange knight such a heavy blow that he fairly 
made his horse reel. 

" Ha ! " cried the knight. " That was well done, and more than 
knight has done to me these twelve years past, but, my friend, 
such as you can be no match for Turquine ! " 



22 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

As the strange knight spoke his name, Sir Ector fell a-trembling, 
for there was scarcely a knight in all the Order of the Round 
Table who did not fear the great and mighty bandit, Sir Tur- 
quine. The powerful knight marked the effect of his words, and 
chuckled to himself as he reached out one mighty arm and plucked 
the fear-weakened Sir Ector from the saddle. Swiftly he bore 
him away to his own home, where he stripped him of his armor, 
beat him with cruel thorns, and threw him into a deep dungeon, 
where he found many men whom he knew, among them the lost 
Sir Lionel. 

"Alas, my nephew!" cried Sir Ector, "that we should meet 
in this foul place ! But tell me, know you aught of my brother, 
Lancelot?" 

" No," answered Lionel. " I left him asleep in the shade of 
an oak tree, but whether he now lives I know not. One thing 
is sure: unless he does, and comes to our rescue, we shall rot in 
prison. For there is no man on earth but Lancelot who can over- 
throw our jailer." 

While the knights mourned and sympathized with each other, 
Lancelot also drooped and languished in a distant prison cell. As 
he had lain in peaceful slumber under the oak tree, four Queen- 
witches had come by and cast a spell over him. They had borne 
him off to their castle and had sought by every means in their 
power to make him renounce the Round Table and his allegiance 
to King Arthur, and serve in their castle guard instead. This Sir 
Lancelot would not do, and the Queens declared he should die 
in prison if his will could not be broken. 

Now it chanced that the damsel who was commanded to wait 
upon Sir Lancelot, and carry him his meals, was the daughter of 
Bagdemagus, a king whose head had been bowed low in the dust by 
the King of North Wales. Once in a tournament Lancelot had 
overthrown this great king, and the daughter of Bagdemagus, 
knowing this, was very kind to Lancelot. She offered to help him 
escape, if he would deliver her father from the tyranny of the 



ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 23 

Welsh king. Lancelot was more than glad to consent, and at 
the appointed time the maiden led him safely away and hid him 
in her father's house. Then King Bagdemagus assembled all his 
brave and trusty knights and gave them into Sir Lancelot's com- 
mand, and great was the victory which they won over the King of 
Wales and his followers. 

As soon as Lancelot saw his faithful friend, the Princess Bagde- 
magus and her father, the King, safely settled in their own bor- 
ders, he bade them a kind farewell and set forth alone to seek 
for Sir Lionel, marveling much as to the young man's disappear- 
ance while he himself had been sleeping beneath the oak. He 
made his way back to the tree, and scarcely had he ridden ten rods 
from it when he met a maiden riding a white mule. 

" Sweet lady," said he, bowing low before her, " canst thou tell 
me if any adventures are to be found in this forest? " 

" Yea, my lord knight," answered the maiden, smiling brightly 
at the handsome Lancelot, who had a manner that was pleasing 
to all women, " there are many adventures hereabouts, if it so 
happens that thou hast strength to prove them." 

" And why should I not prove myself, fair maiden? " asked Sir 
Lancelot quickly. " It is for further trials of my strength that I 
have come into this strange country." 

" Aye, and thou hast spoken like a true knight! " exclaimed the 
girl admiringly. " I doubt not that thou art powerful and brave. 
I will bring thee to the greatest and mightiest knight that ere was 
found, if thou wilt tell me thy name and serve for me a quest, if 
first thou art lucky enough to overthrow the great man." 

" Surely," responded Sir Lancelot, with his usual gallantry. 
" 'Twould be a pleasure to serve so fair a lady on any quest, 
however difficult. As to my name, I am called Sir Lancelot of 
the Lake, and belong to the Order of the Round Table. It may 
so chance that you have heard of my master, the noble King 
Arthur?" 

'* Yes, indeed," answered the maiden eagerly. " Not only of 



24 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Arthur, but of his brave friend and most trusted knight, Lancelot. 
Now do I know that this powerful knight be delivered into your 
hands. He is the great and wicked bandit. Sir Turquine. And 
I am told that in his dungeons are three score and four good 
knights of King Arthur's court. He hath taken every one that 
came within his reach." 

" Praise the kind Providence that led me hither, fair maiden! " 
cried Sir Lancelot. " I will avenge my friends of the Table 
Round and slay the villain, or forever give up my place at Arthur's 
right hand ! Lead on ! I am anxious to meet the bold Turquine, 
and God will strengthen my spear." 

So the damsel made haste to lead Sir Lancelot to the tree by 
the ford, and she showed him the mystery of the basin. He recog- 
nized at once a large number of the shields hanging upon the tree, 
and he was so angry that he smote the basin fiercely until the bot- 
tom fell out. But no one came. Then Sir Lancelot rode up to the 
gates of Sir Turquine's manor and pounded for admission, and 
still no one answered. So he rode up and down before the gates 
like a sentinel, determined not to go away until he had obtained 
satisfaction. 

At last horses' hoofs were heard in the distance, and presently 
there appeared at a bend in the road a great knight, who drove 
before his own horse another on which lay another knight 
who was wounded. There was something about the wounded 
man which seemed strangely familiar, and as he came nearer, Lance- 
lot saw that it was Sir Gaheris, one of the Order of the Round 
Table who had but lately been knighted. 

Sir Lancelot grasped his spear and firmly rode forward at a 
gallop, "Prepare to defend thyself!" he shouted sternly, "I 
charge thee in the name of King Arthur and the noble Order of 
the Round Table!" 

" If thou comest under the name of that villainous band, thou 
art truly welcome ! " answered the knight boldly, " I defy thee 
and all thy noble brotherhood ! " 



ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 25 

" Thou hast too much assurance, friend," returned Sir Lance- 
lot, calmly. " But I pray thee, before we test our strength, let 
us lay my wounded brother upon the ground and make him more 
comfortable." 

The knight consented. And then began such a fight as had 
never been seen or heard of before in all England. Now one 
knight prevailed and now the other, and for full two hours they 
fought without either one gaining the mastery. Both were cov- 
ered with wounds and their breath came in gasping sobs; yet neither 
would cry for quarter. 

At last Sir Turquine paused. 

" Hold thy hand, good knight," he cried, *' and let us reason 
together. Thou art the best knight that hath ever crossed 
blades with me, and more like one other that I have never 
seen than any one whom I could imagine. If thou art not he, 
for I hate him bitterly, I will agree to set free all my prisoners 
and let them return to Arthur's court, providing thou wilt promise 
to be my friend." 

"And who is it thou so hatest. Sir Turquine?" inquired Sir 
Lancelot. " It is meet that I should know his name ere I prom- 
ise, for thou art surely a brave knight, and who knows that thou 
mightst not be true and loyal didst thou so mind? " 

" Know then," answered Sir Turquine grimly, " it is Sir Lance- 
lot of the Lake. He slew my beloved brother at the battle of 
the Towers, and to avenge him I have killed a hundred good 
knights and crippled many more, and there are four score and 
ten shut up in my dungeons. Never will I cease to slay the 
knights of the Round Table that come into my borders while 
Lancelot lives. Knowest thou him? Is he friend of thine? Tell 
me true." 

"Aye!" answered Lancelot bravely. "Never yet have I 
spoken aught but truth to man. Behold ! Thy hated enemy 
stands before thee. I am Lancelot of the Lake, son of King Ban 
of Benwick. And we must fight unto the death ; for as thou must 



26 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

avenge thy brother, so must I hkewise avenge my friends and 
kinsmen of the Round Table. I defy thee! " 

Sir Turquine's wrath now waxed high. He fought with might 
and main, and Sir Lancelot had all he could do to defend himself. 
For two hours more they fought without rest, and both were faint 
and sick from the pain of their wounds and the loss of blood. 
Both were smeared and bespattered, and the grass all about them 
was trodden and stained like a slaughter pen. At last Sir Tur- 
quine's splendid strength gave way, and he bore his shield low 
for very weariness. Then came Sir Lancelot's chance, and he 
seized it. Quickly he grasped his foe by the helmet and bore him 
to his knees, plucking off his helm as he did so, and severing his 
neck with one blow. Then he fell fainting by the side of the dead 
knight. 

Now the maiden who had brought Lancelot to the ford had re- 
mained hidden in a nearby ravine to watch the duel, and as soon 
as she saw that Lancelot had fallen beside the slain Turquine, she 
rushed to his side. And it was well that she did so, for he would 
have died of his wounds without her ministrations. Seizing Sir 
Turquine's helmet she bounded to the ford and quickly returned 
with cool spring water and soothing herbs. Tearing her hand- 
kerchief, sash and scarf into bandages, she soon had her patient's 
wounds dressed as skilfully as a physician could have bound them, 
and set about restoring him to consciousness. 

It was not long until Sir Lancelot was up and eager to set 
about his business. Almost immediately he inquired of the maiden 
as to the nature of the quest which she had wished him to under- 
take. 

" Nay, Sir Knight," she cried pleadingly, " pray think not of it 
now. Stay thy hand, I beseech thee, until thou art rested and whole 
again." 

But Sir Lancelot only laughed. " What are a few wounds, fair 
maiden?" he exclaimed. "Pray tell me thy wish, that I may 







FOR TWO HOURS MORE THEY FOUGHT" Page 26 



ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 27 

keep my promise. I must be In Camelot for the Pentecost, and 
the time draws very near." 

" Well, If thou must, Sir Knight," answered the maiden reluc- 
tantly. " I dislike to ask thee to duel more to-day; yet there Is a 
wicked knight hereabouts who robs and distresses ladles and gen- 
tlewomen. It would be a noble act If thou couldst stay his hand, 
and thou wouldst have the thanks of all the ladles and damsels." 

*' Lead on," replied Sir Lancelot. " It is a good quest. But 
first let us set my wounded brother upon his feet." 

So they loosed the thongs that bound the hands and feet of 
Sir Gaherls and removed the gag from his mouth, so that he was 
free to sit up and express his thanks to Lancelot and his admiration 
for the way Sir Lancelot had held his own In the duel with Sir Tur- 
qulne. But Lancelot cut him short. 

" Stay thy praise. Sir Gaherls! " said he. " I did but my duty. 
It was meet that I should do all I could for the Round Table and 
our blameless, white king. Get thee hence and finish this task for 
me, while I go with this maiden to redeem my promise. She hath 
sore need of a strong arm. I am told that at Turqulne's manor 
hard by, there are shut up In the dungeon a large number of men 
from the Round Table. Their shields hang in a tree by the ford. 
Among them have I recognized those of my kinsmen, Sir Ector 
and Sir Lionel. Go then to the castle, I pray thee, and release 
the prisoners. Tell them to be of good cheer, and to hasten 
to Camelot for the great Feast of the Pentecost, when I shall be 
with them." 

So Sir Lancelot and the maiden rode away, and as they drew 
near the bridge where the wicked knight usually lay In covert, Sir 
Lancelot bade the maiden ride on In advance. Scarcely had she 
gone a dozen rods, when the bandit sprang out from the thicket 
and dragged her from her horse. In an instant Sir Lancelot was 
upon him, and with one blow severed his head from his body. 

" Zounds! What a dog! " he cried in disgust, as he helped the 



28 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

weeping maiden to her feet. " 'Tis a disgrace on knighthood that 
such as he lives ! Hast thou aught more that I can do for thee, 
fair maiden? If so, thou hast but to speak, for thou hast twice 
saved my Hfe, and 'tis a pleasure to serve thee." 

" Nay, brave knight," answered the maiden, smiling, " thou art 
very kind, and better and gentler than any knight I have yet seen, 
but I can ask no more of thee. Go thy way, and may the good 
Father of all guide and preserve thee wheresoever thou goest." 

They parted, and Lancelot rode forward into the forest in 
the direction of Camelot. That night he lodged at the hut of 
a poor forester. Next morning's sun found him again upon the 
way. Suddenly, as he rode quietly along, he beheld a knight racing 
toward him, pursued by two others. He reined in his horse and 
waited for them to come up; and he saw that the knight in distress 
was no other than Sir Kay, Arthur's seneschal and foster-brother. 
Sir Lancelot went to his aid, and in a furious fight the two robber- 
knights were killed. But in the fray Sir Lancelot's horse was 
slain. 

" Ah, Sir Lancelot! " cried Sir Kay, as soon as he could speak, 
" 'Tis a lucky thing for me that you happened to be riding this 
way ! They would have had me in another minute ! Did you find 
the adventures that you sought? Surely you must, for this is a 
land of cutthroats and robbers ! Woe is me ! I am sent upon a 
quest for my lord Arthur, and well do I know that I shall never re- 
turn alive ! " 

"Tut, Sir Kay!" chided Lancelot, "where is your courage?" 
But in his heart he pitied the seneschal and felt that what he 
dreaded would likely come to pass. So he said: " Come, I will 
tell you what to do. Let us make a trade. I will exchange my 
armor for your horse and armor. With my shield and armor on, 
you are safe, for most people where you are going would not 
venture to try at arms with me, and you can buy a horse at the 
nearest manor. As for me, I shall be safe enough, for I can de- 
fend myself." 



ARTHUR'S BEST FRIEND 29 

And so it came about that Lancelot and the seneschal exchanged 
arms, and made many hearts sorry thereby. For Sir Kay passed 
in peace many robbers and highwaymen who did not dare molest 
him thinking him Sir Lancelot, whose power as a swordsman was 
well known in that vicinity. Had they guessed the cowardly heart 
that beat under Sir Lancelot's armor and seen how the arm trembled 
that bore Sir Lancelot's shield, Sir Kay would surely have been 
slain! 

As Sir Lancelot rode on toward Camelot, four of Arthur's knights 
espied him, and they nudged each other, saying: " Behold the 
sensechal, how proudly he bears himself! Verily, the honor of his 
position goes to his head like new wine ! He rides like the great 
Chief of Knights, Sir Lancelot himself. Let us break his pride 1 " 

And they laid their heads together and planned to frighten him 
by disguising themselves and asking him to cross swords with one 
of their number. 

Now Lancelot knew the four at once and divined their plan, 
but he gave no sign. Laughing in his sleeve, he assumed the voice 
of Sir Kay, and challenged the party either singly or in a body. 
The knights were astounded, for they had expected Sir Kay to 
take flight Instantly, and they murmured among themselves, but 
mirthfully accepted the challenge. Their mirth was changed to 
humiliation when the supposed seneschal not only defeated each 
in turn but all in a body! And they drew away with hanging 
heads, and would not even accompany this changed Sir Kay to 
court, as he Invited them to do. Bitter as gall was the thought 
that they, who considered themselves among the flower of Arthur's 
knights, had been defeated by the seneschal, a mere farmer and 
keeper of grain-bins, who scarce knew one shield from another! 

Great was the rejoicing when Sir Lancelot, after some further 
adventures, finally reached Camelot. The knights released from 
Turqulne's dungeon and Sir Kay had all arrived before him, and 
loudly had they praised him. King Arthur felt that his beloved 
knight had Indeed done him great service, and was prepared to 



30 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

show Lancelot all honor. A great feast was made ready which 
almost rivaled that of the Pentecost, to be held on the morrow. 
Praises, jests, and merriment ran high, but probably the happiest 
souls in all that vast throng were the four knights who learned 
that they had tested swords with the champion himself instead of 
the King's steward. And in all the land of England there was not 
at this time any man, excepting the King himself, who was so loved, 
so honored and so worthy of all reverence as Sir Lancelot of the 
Lake, son of King Ban of Benwick. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR 

YOU will remember that when Arthur was crowned, many- 
kings ruled in the isle of Britain. Ever they waged war 
with one another, laying in waste a great part of the land, 
and from time to time the heathen hosts swarmed from over the 
sea and harried what was left. So there came to be many great 
tracts of wilderness where man was never seen and where wild 
beasts roamed at will. In parts of the wilderness there dwelt a 
fearful animal known as the loup-garou, or man-wolf, a creature, 
half-man and half-wolf, that devoured men, women and children. 

The land of Cameliard, where Leodogran was king, suffered 
most from the wild beasts and heathen that overran its borders. 
Much of the country was covered by thick, wet woods, and by day 
as well as by night, the wild dog, the wolf, the bear, and the boar 
came to root In the fields and gardens of the King, and ever and 
anon they would steal a child and drag him away to their foul dens. 
Leodogran was greatly troubled and knew not where to turn for 
aid, his castle guard having been wasted by heathen hordes and 
recent fighting with his neighbor. King Urion. At last he heard 
of the crowning of Arthur, and of how the new king tried faith- 
fully to measure justice to all. So he sent word to him, saying: 
" Arise, and help us ! For here between man and beast we die." 

Arthur's tender heart was filled with compassion, and he sum- 
moned his knights around him and bade them prepare for the 
journey. Not once did he pause to think that he was yet but 
little used to battle (for this was In the early days of his reign), 
or of how much his own affairs needed looking after, for there was 
yet much bitter, smoldering revolt against him in his kingdom. 

Now It chanced that as Arthur and his noble knights filed into 

31 



32 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

the gateway at Cameliard, Leodogran's daughter, the beautiful 
Guinevere, " fairest of all flesh on earth," was waiting by the castle 
wall to see them pass. She glanced up, and the King, looking deep 
into her eyes, felt that her lovely image was engraved upon his 
heart forever. The princess drew back, blushing. But as Arthur 
wore no symbol of his kinghood, and rode as a simple knight 
among his followers, many of whom were in richer arms than he, 
she knew him not. The King paused not to reveal himself, but his 
pulses throbbed and he determined to fight a good battle for King 
Leodogran and ask him for his beautiful daughter's hand as a re- 
ward. 

So Arthur pitched his tent beside the forest and drove out the 
heathen. Then he slew the wild beasts and felled the forest, let- 
ting in the sun, and making broad pathways for the hunter and 
the knight. As he was about to go to King Leodogran, a mes- 
senger from his own land came hurrying, bidding him to make haste 
if he would save his throne, for the rebel kings who questioned his 
right to reign were gathering their forces once more. And 
Arthur was obliged to put back the love that was stirring in his 
heart and hurry to the call of his country. But as he went he 
mused and pondered about Guinevere and his own lonely state as 
king without a bride, and he pondered in these words: 

" What happiness to reign a lonely king, 
Vext — O ye stars that shudder over me, 

earth that soundest hollow under me, 

Vext with waste dreams? for saving I be join'd 
To her that is the fairest under heaven, 

1 seem as nothing in the mighty world, 

And cannot will my will, nor work my work 
Wholly, nor make myself in mine own realm 
Victor and lord. But were I join'd with her, 
Then might we live together as one life, 
And reigning with one will in everything, 
Have power on this dark land to lighten it, 
And power on this dead world to make it live." 



'/A'^mMmmmr- 






'the princess drew back, blushing" — /'age J J 



THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR 33 

When Arthur and his knights came to the field where the rebel 
kings were drawn up in battle ranks, the day became suddenly so 
bright and clear that " the smallest rock far on the faintest hill " 
cowld be plainly seen, and, though it was high day, the morning 
star shone brightly. As the King unfurled his banners, from both 
sides rose loud shouts and trumpet blasts and clarion calls that 
thrilled the blood. Then with drawn lances the thousand rebel 
hosts came thundering to meet Arthur's army. And nobly did the 
knights withstand the shock! There ensued a great crash and 
clattering of steel, and now the barons and kings prevailed and now 
Arthur and his knights. But at last God showed His hand on 
Arthur's side; for all at once " the Powers who walk the world " 
made lightnings and great thunders over the King, and dazed all 
eyes, and Arthur's hands seemed to grow mightier with every blow. 
Then came a deep, wonderful voice from the four winds, shouting, 
and the rebel hosts huddled together sore afraid, and, when the 
voice ceased, they broke in wild flight. But when Arthur's knights 
would have pursued them, dealing death on every hand, their peace- 
loving King cried: " Ho! they yield! " 

" So like a painted battle the war stood 
Silenced, the living quiet as the dead, 
And in the heart of Arthur joy was lord." 

And he turned laughingly to Lancelot, his beloved guard, who 
had kept faithfully at his side throughout the battle, exclaiming: 
" Thou dost not doubt me King, so well thine arm hath wrought for 
me to-day." 

" Sire and my Liege," cried Lancelot admiringly, " the fire of 
God descends upon thee in the battle-field; I knozv thee for my 
King!" 

And the two swore there on the field of death a deathless love. 
And Arthur clasped the knight's hands in his own as he said 
solemnly: " Man's word is God in man. Let chance what will, 
I trust thee to the death." 



34 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

As soon as he had returned to Camelot, Arthur's heart and 
mind again turned to the beautiful Guinevere, and he, therefore, 
sent three of his trusted knights, Ulfius, Brastias, and Bedivere, with 
a message to King Leodogran, saying: " If I in aught have served 
thee well, give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife." 

King Leodogran was greatly troubled. He admired Arthur and 
was deeply grateful to him for ridding Cameliard of its enemies; 
also he saw that it would be of immense advantage to himself to be 
related to so powerful a king; but he did not feel like giving Arthur 
his greatest treasure, which was his only daughter. He had heard 
some of the murmurings of the rebel kings and feared lest Arthur 
as they said of him, were not of royal blood. So he pondered in 
his heart, being resolved never to give his daughter to any except 
a true king and the son of a king at that. 

He summoned his old, gray-haired chamberlain, and inquired of 
him : " Know you aught of Arthur's birth ? " 

But the chamberlain, whom he trusted above all men, could 
give him no satisfaction, and the King rebuked him half-angrily, 
saying: " O friend, had I been holpen half as well by this King 
Arthur as by thee to-day, then beast and men had had their share 
of me." 

Then Ulfius, Brastias, and Bedivere were summoned, and Sir 
Bedivere took it upon himself to satisfy the King; but Leodogran 
doubted still. 

Now, either by chance or design, for she was wondrous wise, 
Queen Bellicent, wife of Lot of Orkney, and her two sons came 
knocking at the castle door for admittance, and Leodogran was 
forced to make a feast and entertain her. As they sat at meat, 
he remembered that she was a kinswoman of King Arthur, and so 
determined to question her, beginning in this wise: "A doubtful 
throne is ice on summer seas. You come from Arthur's court. 
Victor his men report him. Yea, but do you think this king — 
so many there are that hate him, and his knights so few, how- 



THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR 35 

ever brave they be — hath body enough to hold his foemen 
down?" 

And the Queen, for reasons best known to herself, sent her 
sons from the room, and told Leodogran all she knew of Arthur, 
giving various stories that were afloat concerning his birth, and 
telling how, when she asked Merlin concerning the shining dragon- 
ship and the naked child cast up by the sea, the wizard had mocked 
her In riddling rhymes, saying: 

" Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky! 
A young man will be wiser by and by; 
An old man's wit may wander ere he die. 

" Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow on the lea! 
And truth is this to me, and that to thee; 
And truth or clothed or naked let it be. 

" Rain, sun, and rain! and the free blossom blows; 
Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he who knows? 
From the great deep to the great deep he goes." 

She told of Arthur's crowning and the miracles shown at that 
time, and said to the King heartily: "Fear not to give iVrthur 
thine only child, Guinevere, for he is a true king, and Merlin hath 
sworn that though men may wound him he will not die, but pass 
to come again, and then or now utterly smite the heathen under- 
foot, till these and all men hail him for their king." 

Her words left King Leodogran as unconvinced as before, and 
he decided to sleep over the matter. That night the truth came 
to him in a dream, as truth so often does come to man. He be- 
held as in a vision Arthur standing crowned in the heavens, while 
all his foes and those who spoke against him melted away like mists 
before the morning sun. And Leodogran awoke and sent word 
to Sir Bedivere and his comrades, bidding them tell Arthur that 
his suit was granted. 

There was great joy In Arthur's heart when the good tidings 
were heard, and he prepared to have the marriage take place 



36 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

at once. As urgent state affairs called for his presence at home, he 
could not go for his bride himself; so he asked Sir Lancelot to 
go in his stead. And Lancelot consented right willingly, for he 
was pleased that the King should show so much confidence in him. 

It was the latter part of April when Lancelot set out, and 
the May flowers were blooming when he left Cameliard on the 
return journey with the beautiful princess. On every hand was 
the breath of spring, life, and love. Blue isles of heaven glanced 
upon them through the fresh, shimmering green of the forest trees, 
sunbeams danced madly around them, the flowers gave their sweet- 
est fragrance, and the birds fairly made the woods ring with their 
love anthems. The road seemingly lay through the very heart 
of Nature's most brilliant beauty, and endless were the enchanting 
pictures presented; but to Lancelot the loveliest picture of all was 
the Princess Guinevere. Clad in a beautiful gown of grass-green 
silk buckled with golden clasps, and crowned with a light green 
tuft of waving plumes, she seemed the very Queen of Nature and 
type of all that the wood-thrush sang in his dreamy notes. So 
charming she looked as she lightly sat her cream-white mule and 
swayed the rein with her dainty finger tips, that Lancelot felt 
a man might well give all his worldly worth for one kiss from her 
perfect lips, and in so thinking failed to see that the thought was 
treachery to the King. 

At last they came to Camelot and the waiting King, who 
hastened eagerly forward to greet his bride. Now as yet the prin- 
cess had not seen the King, and she scanned his fair, handsome 
face eagerly, thinking half discontentedly to herself that she pre- 
ferred Lancelot's dark eyes and raven hair to her lord's curling 
locks of gold and eyes of laughing blue ! Yet she made no sign, 
and knelt with Arthur on cloth-of-gold before the beautiful, white 
altar of Camelot, where the great St. Dubric, the holy head of the 
Church of Britain, spoke the solemn vows that made them one. 

" Behold, thy doom is mine," said Arthur, speaking the last 
words of the service softly and tenderly, his voice sounding like 



THE MARRIAGE OF ARTHUR 37 

sweetest music. " Let chance what will, I love thee to the 
death!" 

And the new-made queen replied with drooping eyes, " King, 
and my lord, I love thee to the death ! " 

Then the holy Dubric spread his hands in blessing. " Reign ye, 
and live and love," he said, " and make the world other, — and may 
thy Queen be one with thee, and all this Order of thy Table Round 
fulfil the boundless purpose of its King ! " 

The King and the Queen then left the shrine and went forth into 
the beautiful, white city, which seemed all on fire with sun and cloth- 
of-gold. Children dressed in white ran before them, strewing 
flowers in their pathway and leading them on to the palace. 
White-garbed knights, rejoicing in Arthur's joy, blew their trumpets 
madly, and then broke forth in one grand, rich chorus that seemed 
to fill the very heavens : 

" Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May! 
Blow trumpet, the long night hath roU'd away! 
Blow thro' the living world — ' Let the King reign! ' 

"Shall Rome or Heathen rule In Arthur's realm? 
Flash brand and lance, fall battle-ax on helm, 
Fall battle-ax, and flash brand! Let the King reign! 

" Strike for the King and live! His knights have heard 
That God hath told the King a secret word. 
Fall battle-ax, and flash brand! Let the King reign! 

" Blow trumpet! he will lift us from the dust. 
Blow trumpet! live the strength and die the lust! 
Clang battle-ax, and clash brand ! Let the King reign ! 

" Strike for the King and die! and if thou diest, 
The King is king, and ever wills the highest. 
Clang battle-ax, and clash brand! Let the King reign! 



38 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" Blow, for our Sun is mighty in his May ! 
Blow, for our Sun is mightier day by day! 
Clang battle-ax, and clash brand! Let the King reign! 

" The King will follow Christ, and we the King, 
In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing. 
Fall battle-ax, and flash brand ! Let the King reign ! " 



CHAPTER V 

Arthur's enemies at court 

EVEN as Arthur sat at the wedding banquet, with his bride 
on one side and Sir Lancelot on the other, his enemies could 
not leave him in peace. In there came some lords from 
Rome — delegates of the Roman Emperor — to claim tribute as 
of old. But Arthur would not listen to them, saying : 

"Nay, the old order changeth, yielding place to new; tribute 
to whom tribute is due, custom to whom custom. And since ye 
are grown too old and weak to do your part and guard this realm 
from heathen enemies, there shall be no more talk of tribute." 

Then the great lords departed in anger, and Arthur was obliged 
to go to war with Rome to enforce his word. So he was given 
but little time to make the acquaintance of his beautiful queen, 
and it was with a sad heart that he left her in the care of Sir Lance- 
lot and a few other trusted knights who were chosen to guard the 
palace and the ladies of the Court. But Arthur was mighty in 
battle and the excitement of the fray was music to his soul, so the 
time passed rapidly, after all. And in three months he was able 
to turn joyfully homeward, having defeated the Romans in twelve 
great battles and utterly put them to rout. 

For a time Arthur was allowed to enjoy life in Camelot. There 
were no enemies without to subdue, and it seemed as though his 
beautiful dream of spending the rest of his days in peace was to be 
realized, when all at once he found that there were many traitors 
about him. Jealousy was beginning to creep in, and here and 
there were envious souls who coveted the throne. Every now and 
then it was whispered that Arthur was not the man to be king, 
that his strength lay only in his powerful sword, Excalibur, and that 
without it he would be as nothing. The knights, too, were slip- 

39 



40 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

ping from their high standard. Without battles to fight, time hung 
heavily upon their hands, and they sapped their strength with much 
feasting, with unseemly jousts, and bouts at the gaming tables. 
Also the finger of scorn was pointed secretly at Sir Lancelot and 
Queen Guinevere, and it was whispered that the beautiful queen 
loved Lancelot instead of the King. But of these last idle whis- 
perings not a word did King Arthur hear. He was too pure 
and noble himself to see aught but good in others, and he did 
not even dream of doubting his wife or of questioning the loyalty 
of his beloved knight whom he regarded as a brother. 

Now the chief whisperer of the throng at Court and the in- 
stigator of most of the mischief was one Modred, Arthur's nephew, 
son of Queen Bellicent of Orkney. He was a wily, oily-tongued 
scoundrel, who did all he could to work himself into King Arthur's 
good graces and then prepared to do him harm when his back was 
turned. It was Modred's desire to drive Arthur from the throne 
and seat himself upon it, and he was aided and abetted in his 
slander of the Queen by Vivien, the sorceress, who, you will re- 
member, was to destroy Merlin by shutting him up In the hol- 
low oak. She hated Arthur because he was pure and good and 
refused to submit to her charms, and she knew that she could 
hurt him most by bowing low the head of the beautiful queen whom 
he loved with all his heart. 

There was another who hated Arthur, and despised and envied 
the Queen. This was Queen Morgan le Fay, sister to Queen 
Bellicent and half-sister, also, to Arthur. Beautiful was she be- 
yond description, and as false as she was fair, — a very fiend 
among women. Mistress of many witches' charms, she determined 
to capture the sword Excalibur, and have Arthur put to death; 
then she would establish her lover on the throne as King, and 
reign herself as Queen. 

It was not hard to get Excalibur, as Arthur had never yet re- 
alized the need of keeping it under guard. So Queen Morgan le 
Fay found out where it was kept, and bided her time. Soon 



ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 41 

King Arthur and her husband, King Urien, and Sir Accolan, a brave 
but fooHsh knight who had allowed himself to become smitten 
with Queen Morgan le Fay's charms, felt a strange desire to go 
hunting in each other's company, and set out together for the deep 
forest. Hardly had they entered it when a young hart sprang 
up in their pathway and they chased it for many a weary mile. 
At last Sir Urien lamed his horse, and the three dismounted and 
gave chase on foot, as it was evident that the hart was nearly spent. 
Finally it disappeared completely and the men found themselves 
standing hopelessly bewildered by the side of a strange lake. In 
a moment their eyes took in what appeared to be a deserted ship 
riding at anchor close to the shore, and King Arthur proposed that 
they go aboard and explore her. 

They found the ship to be a most beautiful little vessel, richly 
and admirably fitted up, and they spent so much time over it that 
night was upon them before they were aware of it. Then there 
was a sound as of clapping hands, and in a twinkling sailors ap- 
peared on every side, and twelve damsels, clad in white, came and 
bowed before the King welcoming him warmly. Then they in- 
vited the men to come out to supper in the tiny salon, where they 
pressed all manner of dainties upon them, and there was much 
feasting. Being weary with the day's chase, the men soon asked 
if they could stay there for the night, and were shown at once 
to separate sleeping apartments where they fell immediately into 
deep, dreamless slumber. 

When King Urien awoke he found himself at home in the 
chamber with his wife. Sitting up, he stared about him in dis- 
may, half wondering if the hunt and what followed had been a 
dream. Then, catching sight of the mocking smile on his wife's 
face as she watched him under half-closed lids, he at once sus- 
pected that the whole business was one of her charms, and doubted 
not that some treason against Arthur was intended. But he spoke 
never a word. 

As for King Arthur, he was even at that moment lying among 



42 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

some twenty knights in a distant dungeon, where he had found 
himself on awakening. 

As soon as his first surprise was over, he began to question those 
about him and learned that he was Imprisoned by Sir Damas, a 
wicked knight who falsely kept from his inheritance his younger 
brother, Sir Ontzlake. 

" Damas causes travelers to be taken prisoners by a band of 
his robbers," explained a knight, " in the hope that he will one 
day get hold of a champion to fight and kill Sir Ontzlake for him. 
Damas Is a coward and refuses brave Ontzlake's entreaty that 
he will fight him single-handed for the Inheritance, or else that he 
will provide a knight to fight for him. Now there is not among 
us a knight that would fight for Damas. We would far rather 
starve in prison ! " 

" Then the Lord deliver you ! " exclaimed Sir Arthur com- 
passionately. 

As he spoke a fair damsel appeared before Arthur, inquiring, 
"What cheer?" 

" Alas," answered the King sadly, " I know not. But stay," 
he added quickly, as the maiden half turned away, " methinks I 
have seen thee at the Court of Arthur? " 

" Nay," answered the maiden, smiling and dimpling, " I have 
not been there." Yet It was a falsehood she told, for she was 
one of Morgan le Fay's maidens and was secretly pleased to think 
that the great king remembered her. " I am of Sir Damas' house- 
hold, and I am sent to tell you that you shall be delivered, if you 
will but consent to fight a knight for Sir Damas." 

" I will do so gladly," answered Arthur, for he was of no mind 
to die in prison. " If only I may have a good sword, horse, and 
armor, and also If my fellow prisoners may be freed." 

" All shall be as you require," replied the maiden. " My master 
will be greatly pleased. I will come for you within the hour, and 
shall bring with me your great sword, Excalibur." And she de- 
parted, smiling. 



ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 43 

And now let us turn for a moment and see how it had fared 
with the third member of the hunting party, Sir Accolan. He 
awoke to find himself in the heart of a deep forest, and as he 
stood rubbing his eyes in amazement and wondering which way 
to turn, a damsel appeared before him. 

'* I bid you good cheer, Sir Accolan," she observed smilingly 
and curtseyed prettily before him. " I am come from Queen 
Morgan le Fay. She bids you take heart and follow me." 

"Whither dost thou lead?" queried Sir Accolan, half minded 
to turn and run the other way, for he was sore frightened and 
bewildered. 

*' To the home of Sir Ontzlake near at hand," answered the 
maiden. " He will aid thee and set thee on the way." 

And so perforce the knight followed the maiden and presently 
came to the Ontzlake castle where the lord of the manor welcomed 
him heartily and caused food to be set before him. As they sat 
at meat a messenger arrived from Sir Damas, bidding Sir Ontz- 
lake to present himself at two o'clock near the old tower if he 
wished to test his strength for the inheritance. 

" Alas," mourned Sir Ontzlake, " 'tis the opportunity I most de- 
sire, but it has come at an ill-fated time. Here am I with a broken 
rib and a severe lance wound in my sword arm. How can I fight 
and come off victorious? Yet if I do not consent, my brother will 
never again make the offer and I shall forever lose my birthright! 
Woe is me ! " 

" Indeed, Sir Ontzlake," cried Sir Accolan quickly. " You are 
in sore straits ! Allow me to offer myself in your stead. 'Twould 
be a pleasure to do this thing for you in return for the kindness 
you have shown me." 

" Thank you kindly, friend, and the Lord reward you I " an- 
swered Sir Ontzlake warmly. " I am minded to accept your aid in 
the same spirit in which you offer it. You are a brave and noble 
knight, and a man after my own heart! If you will do this thing 
tor me then you need never want for a friend so long as Harry 



44 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Ontzlake lives! And you may command me even to the half of 
my inheritance, and It is thine ! " 

"Zounds! man, say no more," cried Sir Accolan. "Is it not 
reward enough if I may call thee friend? Have I not heard of 
thy goodness and bounty and how thou art beloved of all within 
thy gates? Then, too, I am of the Court of Arthur and sworn 
to help all worthy persons in need of aid. Provide me with sword 
and arms at once, I pray thee. I but do my duty." 

And so it came to pass that at precisely two o'clock King Arthur 
and Sir Accolan rushed upon each other, both having been so 
changed in that long, dreamless sleep that neither one recognized 
the other. From the very first the battle was fierce, for both 
were skilled swordsmen, and many were the admiring shouts drawn 
from the bystanders, who were composed of Sir Damas and his 
household, the knights from the dungeon, and Sir Ontzlake and 
his retainers. 

Soon King Arthur was covered with blood, while his assailant 
showed scarce a wound, and Arthur marveled much. It seemed 
to him as though Excalibur swung lightly in his hand and refused 
to bite steel as he was wont to do. And presently he became con- 
vinced that there was treachery somewhere and felt sure that his 
opponent held the real Excalibur, for the two swords were seem- 
ingly alike, and he knew that his sister, Morgan le Fay, whom the 
damsel said had sent the sword, had played him false. All at 
once Arthur's sword snapped off close to the hilt, and he was weak 
and faint and felt that he must die, yet he was too proud and brave 
to cry for quarter. 

" Zounds, man ! " cried Sir Accolan admiringly, " you are the 
bravest knight that ever swung sword." And all present felt that 
he spoke truly and marveled how Arthur could fight as he did, 
being so sorely wounded. " Will you not give in, friend? I dis- 
like to slay a defenseless man ! You can fight no longer with a 
broken sword! " said Sir Accolan. 

Then a strange thing happened. There came a sound as of the 



ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 45 

rushing of many waters and the Lady of the Lake appeared In 
a cloud of mist and stood at Arthur's side. But he saw her not. 
At that moment he made a wild, despairing charge at Sir Ac- 
colan, striking him with the hilt of his broken sword and so daz- 
ing him that he lunged forward and dropped his own. In a mo- 
ment Arthur sprang forward and caught it up, and gave a mad 
shout as he recognized it. For it was Excalibur which he had in 
his hand, and the jewels which had beamed dull in the hands of 
Sir Accolan now shone brightly and gave forth a light as of many 
torches, and the people huddled together amazed. 

Then Arthur cried compassionately to his opponent, who had 
struggled to his feet but remained standing with his head bowed 
so that he saw not the miracles: " Friend, will you not ask for 
mercy? I care not to kill you when you are not in the wrong 
and fight the battle of another! " 

But Sir Accolan shook his head. " Alas, brave knight, I thank 
you, but I can not do it. My swordsman's pride is too great. Do 
your duty according to custom. But first tell me from what Court 
are you, for I never before saw so brave a man! " 

As he spoke he raised his eyes, and in that moment the Lady 
of the Lake made a few strange passes and the change which had 
disguised the faces of Arthur and Sir Accolan rolled away. Each 
knew the other and fell back amazed. 

"Alas! my King!" cried Sir Accolan, in a voice choked with 
horror and tears. " Thy forgiveness I implore ! I knew thee 
not, else had I died rather than strike thee ! " 

" It is freely granted, my friend and most brave knight," an- 
swered Arthur kindly. " I know you fought me blindly. 'TIs 
the work of my wicked sister, Morgan le Fay, the enchantress. 
She would fain see me slain." Then he turned angrily to Sir 
Damas and flashed the light of Excalibur into his eyes so that he 
was sore afraid and trembled until his knees smote together. " Sir 
Damas there will be no more fighting to-day! I command thee 
to give to thy brother, Sir Ontzlake, his full share of the inheritance. 



46 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

and so to live that thou shalt be an honor to thy country and the 
peerage! If thou dost this not, then shall thy life be the for- 
feit!" 

So saying, the King turned about and beckoned to Sir Accolan, 
signifying his readiness to depart. But ere they could start, Sir 
Ontzlake came forward and kneeled before the King, begging him 
and Sir Accolan to come home with him and be his guests until 
the morrow for darkness was even then descending upon them. 
This the King gladly consented to do, and when morning dawned 
Sir Ontzlake not only provided them with horses to make the 
journey but petitioned King Arthur to swear him into the Order 
of the Round Table that he might dwell with him and his knights 
forever. 

In this way Queen Morgan le Fay's scheme had failed, and she 
knew it on the instant and fled with all speed from the Court lest 
Arthur wreak vengeance upon her when he came home. But 
Arthur's knights told him where she had gone, and when Sir Ac- 
colan died from his wounds four days after reaching Camelot, 
Arthur caused his remains to be placed upon a bier and sent to 
her, under guard of six knights, with the following message : 

"Behold your work! Take your lover and mourn him well! 
But see that you plan no more treason for I have my sword Ex- 
calibur again." 

This message filled Morgan le Fay with bitter anger, but she 
was nearly heartbroken over the loss of Sir Accolan, and felt that 
she cared not to reign as queen if she could not have him on the 
throne beside her. So she nursed her wrath quietly, and gave no 
sign. And because of this Arthur was merciful and would not al- 
low his knights to go after her and burn her at the stake, as they 
wished to do. 

After many days there came to Arthur one of Queen Morgan le 
Fay's handmaidens bearing a " peace-offering." It was a most 
beautiful cloak, all decorated and embroidered with beautiful stones. 
And Arthur was pleased for he thought his sister had repented, 




DAMSEL, LET ME FIRST SEE THIS CLOAK UPON YOU, THAT 
I MAY THE BETTER OBSERVE IT' " Page 4-7 



ARTHUR'S ENEMIES AT COURT 47 

inasmuch as the maiden assured him solemnly that the queen de- 
sired to make amends for the wrong she had done him. 

As the King extended his hands to receive the cloak, a blinding 
mist fell upon those who stood near, and when they could see 
clearly again they beheld the Lady of the Lake whispering to 
Arthur. And the King's brow grew black, but at the end of the 
conference he turned quietly to the damsel and observed softly: 
" Damsel, let me first see this cloak upon you, that I may the better 
observe it." 

The damsel smilingly obeyed him and threw the cloak about 
her shoulders. The next moment the girl fell dead at the feet 
of the King. A great clamor then ensued and the knights de- 
manded that they be allowed tO' go out and wreak vengeance upon 
the queen for the death blow which their beloved King had so 
narrowly escaped. 

At first Arthur would not consent, but when Lancelot and Queen 
Guinevere had added their pleadings to the others, he gave way 
and allowed Lancelot and Ontzlake to lead a party against her. 
The queen's spies informed her that they were coming, and when 
they reached her castle she and her castle knights had fled into 
the forest. But all to no purpose, for the knights pursued her 
hotly and eagerly, and the queen soon saw that unless she re- 
sorted to witchcraft she would be taken. So she changed herself 
and her knights into columns of stone. Soon Lancelot and Ontz- 
lake lost the trail nor could they find It again, and they finally 
paused beside the very column of stone which hid the queen and 
gave vent to their wrath and disappointment. 

For many days the knights tarried In the forest, but they finally 
gave up the search and went back to Camelot. Then the queen 
resurrected herself and her men and they went away to the north 
of England ; nor did she ever dare to show herself in the Court 
of Arthur again. But her husband, King Urien, remained one of 
Arthur's most faithful knights until his death, having wisely ac- 
cepted the advice of Arthur when he counseled him, saying: 



48 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" Thy wife, my sister Morgan le Fay, is as false as she is fair. 
Cleave not unto her. I know from the mouth of Sir Accolan that 
she intended to do away with thee and crown him King, had she 
succeeded in her evil designs against me. Of course, I can have 
no one from her household in my Court, but I desire thee to re- 
main if so thou hast naught to do with her, for I think thou hast 
never been a party to her evil doings. But there are some among 
her kinsmen that must be banished." 

Sir Unwain and Sir Baumain, nephews of Queen Morgan le 
Fay, who had openly aided her, were then banished from the 
Court, and afterward made great trouble for Arthur by stirring 
up rebellions among the border kings and by annoying him in 
many petty ways. But the wily Modred, guiltiest soul among 
them, managed to escape the suspicions of Arthur and remained 
at Court to hatch the worst conspiracy of all — the breaking up 
of the Round Table and the death of the noble King. 



CHAPTER VI 

GARETH OF ORKNEY 

QUEEN BELLICENT, wife of Lot of Orkney, and half- 
sister to King Arthur, was the mother of three stalwart 
sons. Two of them, Sir Modred and Sir Gawain, were 
knights of King Arthur, as we have already seen. The third 
and youngest, Gareth, tallest, cleanest-limbed and most noble of 
them all, was still at home. And though he chafed to go and 
help to work the will of Arthur In cleansing the world, his mother, 
foolish in her love and worship of him, would not consent. 

" My son," she was wont to say In answer to his eager plead- 
ings, "hast thou no pity for my loneliness? Lo, thy father. Lot, 
lies like a log all day beside the hearth! He Is old and unfit to 
manage his estates, and both thy brethren are In Arthur's hall. 
Red berries ever charm the young bird, but stay thou with me, 
my best beloved! Rule well thy father's kingdom; follow the 
deer — sweet Is the chase — and let wars and jousts and tourna- 
ments pass by. Make thy manhood mightier day by day by do- 
ing thy duty faithfully here at Orkney till I am old and passed 
away, and I will seek thee out some fair bride to grace thy home 
and halls and comfort us! Stay, my best son, thou art yet more 
boy than man ! " 

And once Gareth, overwrought, answered thus: "Aye, and 
as you hold me yet for a child, hear now the story of a child that 
might be like me: Mother, there was once a king whose heir, 
when tall and marriageable, asked for a bride; and thereupon 
the King set two before him. One was fair, strong-armed — but 
to be won oy force — and many men desired her; one, good lack, 
no man desired. And these were the conditions of the King: that 
save he won the first by force, he needs must wed that other, whom 

49 



50 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

no man desired, — a red-faced bride who knew herself so vile that 
evermore she longed to hide herself. And one, they called her 
Fame; and the other one was Shame! Oh, Mother, how can you 
keep me here tethered to you? Man am I grown; a man's work 
must I do. Follow the deer? No! Follow the Christ, the 
King; live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King — else, 
wherefore born? " 

And the mother sought once more to dissuade him, and spoke 
of the doubt in the minds of some people as to whether Arthur 
really were the true king, closing with the entreaty: "Stay till 
the cloud that settles around his birth hath lifted but a little. Stay, 
sweet son! " 

Then Gareth answered quickly : " Nay, Mother, not one hour, 
so that you yield me. I would walk through fire. Mother, to gain 
your full leave to go! And who can say Arthur is not proven 
king? Who swept the dust of ruined Rome from off the thresh- 
old of our realm, crushed the Idolaters, and made the people free? 
Who should be king save he who makes us free? " 

But Queen Bellicent answered not his quick questions, her keen 
mind having taken hold of what he was willing to endure, and 
seemingly shown her a way of escape. " And will you walk 
through fire? " she queried craftily. " He who walks through fire 
will hardly heed the smoke. Aye, go then, if you must, but before 
you ask the King to make you knight, I demand one proof of your 
obedience and your love of me." 

And Gareth cried impatiently: " A hard one, or a hundred, so 
I go! Give me the proof and test me to the quick! " 

" Prince," said the queen mother, speaking slowly, " thou shalt 
go disguised to Arthur's hall, and hire thyself to serve for meats 
and drinks among the scullions and the kitchen-knaves, and those 
that hand the dish across the bar. Nor shalt thou tell thy name 
to any one. And thou shalt serve a twelve-month and a day." 

In this way the queen hoped to discourage him; for she felt 
that if there were no way open to glory for her princely-proud 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 51 

son excepting through the avenue of the kitchen-vassalage, the poor- 
est post In the King's household, he would give up the idea. But 
she did not know Gareth of Orkney! 

Only a moment he pondered, and then answered sadly : " The 
thrall in person may be f»ree in soul, and I shall see the jousts. 
Thy son am I, and since thou art my mother, must obey. I there- 
fore yield me freely to thy will. So hence will I, disguised, and hire 
myself to serve with scullions and with kitchen-knaves; nor tell my 
name to any — no, not the King." 

Great was the chagrin and grief of Queen Bellicent when he 
accepted her terms, and Gareth, seeing this, tarried for a few days, 
for he loved his mother and disliked to leave her in sorrow. And 
there arose in the queen's heart a hope that he would resolve to 
stay. But one morning, while the castle household was yet asleep, 
Gareth summoned his courage and clad himself like a tiller of the 
soil; and taking with him his two faithful serving-men, who had 
waited upon him since a child, he disguised them also, and quietly 
set out for the Court of Arthur. 

For two days they journeyed to the southward and then on 
the third, a bright, beautiful morning near Whitsuntide, they came 
to the wonderful gates of Camelot, where they held their breath 
in amazement. And as they stood with shining eyes drinking in 
the beauty of the white city, they heard a blast of strange, sweet 
music, and an old, gray-bearded man came forth and inquired of 
them : " Who be ye, my sons ? " 

And Gareth answered straightway: "We be tillers of the soil, 
come to see the glories of the King. But your city moves so weirdly 
in the mist that these, my men, doubt If the King be king at all, 
or come from Fairyland; and whether this city be built by magic 
or by fairy kings and queens; or whether, indeed, there be any city 
at all, or all a vision; and this music now hath brightened them 
both, but do you tell them the truth." 

Now the old man was really Merlin In disguise, and he saw 
through their pretense at once, but he answered Gareth soberly. 



52 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

though his eyes twinkled, " Son, I have seen the good ship sail keel 
upwards In the heavens, and solid turrets topsy-turvy In the air. 
And here Is truth; but If it pleases thee not, take thou the truth 
as thou hast told It to me ! Truly as thou sayest, son, fairy kings 
and queens have built this city. They came from out a sacred 
mountain-cleft toward the sunrise, each with a harp In hand, and 
built it to the music of their harps. And as thou sayest, son. It 
is enchanted; for there Is nothing In It as It seems, saving the King. 
And take thou heed of him; for thou art not what thou seemest, 
and thou goest up to mock the King, who can not brook the shadow 
of any He ! " 

Then Merlin motioned toward the gates and himself turned 
sadly away, leaving Gareth filled with wonder and awe. And then 
It dawned upon the youth that he had been speaking with Merlin, 
and he laughed joyously and entered with his two followers. But 
nevertheless his heart jumped Into his throat as he went onward; 
and when he finally came to the hall where the great Arthur Pen- 
dragon sat crowned on his throne, his tongue clove to the roof 
of his mouth for very fear and his knees smote together, " For 
this half-shadow of a lie that I am acting, the truthful King will 
doom me when I speak," he thought sorrowfully, and timidly he 
glanced around half fearing that one or the other of his brothers, 
Gawain or Modred, would recognize and unthinkingly betray him, 
but he saw neither of them. Their absence gave him courage, 
and he glanced about eagerly, noting the many knights who stood 
with their eyes upon their chief In love and faith. 

And as Gareth watched and waited, people came before the 
King with pleas for aid and justice, and the King heard their 
causes one by one and delivered judgment; and none who 
cried for succor cried in vain. And justice was meted out after 
this manner: 

First there came a widow to the King, crying: "A boon. Sir 
King! Thy father, Uther, took from my lord a field by violence. 
I pray thee make it right." 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 53 

And Arthur asked: "What wouldst thou, woman, field or 
gold?" 

" The field, my Lord," replied the woman, weeping, " for It 
was pleasant In my husband's eyes." 

So Arthur, smiling, said: " Have thy pleasant field again, and 
thrice the gold for Uther's use thereof, according to the years. 
No boon Is here; just common justice, so thy story be proven true. 
Accursed be he who from the wrongs his father did would shape 
himself aright! " 

And so the tales went on, and as each tale of suffering was 
recited, some knight would cry: "A boon. Sir King! Give me 
the leave to right this wrong! " 

The King would grant the boon, and the knight would ride 
away to redress the wrong, glad Indeed to be of some small service 
In doing battle for the Christ and his most blameless King, 
Finally there came a messenger from King Mark of Cornwall, 
bearing a magnificent present of cloth-of-gold which he laid at 
Arthur's feet, and kneeling, he asked that Mark be made a knight 
of the Round Table. 

" Just Heaven! " cried Arthur, rising In mighty wrath, for Mark 
was a traitorous, lying king, a coward who struck in the dark 
when his foe's back was turned. "Hear I aright? Dare that 
traitor ask for a place for his shield here among these my trusted 
knights and true? " 

As he spoke, the King waved his hands toward the side walls, 
and Gareth observed that on either hand was a treble row of shields 
with a knight's name engraven beneath each. A knight standing 
near him explained In a low voice that it was Arthur's custom when 
a knight had done one noble deed to have his arms carved, and 
for each other knightly deed he did a jewel was added. And 
Arthur straightway looked for his brothers' shields and saw 
Gawaln's all bright and shining with jewels, but Modred's was dim 
and blank as death. 

Then Gareth's eyes wandered back to Arthur, and he saw him 



54 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

rend the cloth In two and cast It upon the blazing hearth, ere he 
turned to the shrinking messenger. " Thy Mark hath tarnished 
the great name of King, and he would sully the low state of churl! 
But, seeing he hath sent us cloth-of-gold, return thou and hold 
him from our eyes lest we lap him up in cloth of lead! Craven, 
man of plots, craft, poisonous counsels, wayside ambushings — " 
Then the great King paused, silenced, perhaps, by the frightened 
expression of the man who cowered before him, and said kindly: 
" 'Tis no fault of thine, man. Seneschal, take him hence and satisfy 
his hunger ere he leaves the Court. Accursed be he who strikes 
and lets not his hand be seen! " 

Gareth was next in line, and, for a moment, his heart coun- 
seled him to turn and run, but he subdued it and advanced bravely, 
leaning on his men. " A boon, Sir King ! For see you not how 
weak and hunger-worn I seem, leaning on these? Grant me to 
serve for meat and drink among your kitchen-knaves a twelve- 
month and a day, nor seek my name. Hereafter I will fight." 

The King answered him, saying: " A goodly youth and worth 
a goodlier boon ! But so thou wilt no goodlier, then must Sir Kay 
be thy master." 

Then the King rose and departed, and the knights went their 
several ways. All this time Sir Lancelot's keen, dark eyes had 
been observing Gareth, and he now came over to Sir Kay counseling 
him to treat the lad kindly; for he believed him to be some noble 
youth in disguise, some king's son bent on having a lark. 

But Sir Kay secretly despised Lancelot, so he roughly bade 
him mind his own business. And for this kindly meant interference 
he made Gareth suffer all the more. He called him Sir Fine-face 
and Sir Fair-hands, and gave him the rudest place in the castle 
for his bed, caused him to be served with the roughest food, and 
forced him to do work beyond his strength. But for all this Gareth 
never murmured. Bravely he bowed himself to obedience and 
wrought with kindly pleasance for the King, gracing each lowly 
act in the doing of it. 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 55 

And when the kitchen-knaves talked among themselves, they 
would tell the love that bound the King and Lancelot — how the 
King had saved his life in battle twice, and Lancelot once the King's, 
for Lancelot was the first in tournament, but Arthur mightiest on 
the battle-field, — and Gareth was glad. Or they would tell how 
once the wandering forester at dawn, far over the blue towns and 
hazy seas, found the King, a naked babe, of whom the prophet 
spake : " He passes to the Isle of Avalon. He passes and is healed 
and can not die " — and Gareth rejoiced in their tale. 

But if their talk was foul, then would he whistle rapid as any 
lark, or carol some old song so loudly that at first they mocked, 
but after came to reverence him. And if a tale of knightly deeds 
and daring were wanted, then Gareth's was the tongue to spin it; 
and he held all the knaves spell-bound till Sir Kay's angry voice 
would be heard and they would scatter like leaves before the wind. 
And if, perchance, the knaves chanced to play at jousts, then Gareth 
easily won above all the rest. And so life went on for a month 
or more, until the queen, his mother, repented of the hard vows 
she had made her beloved boy swear, and sent arms and a kindly 
message to release him. 

Then the heart of Gareth rejoiced. He laughed; he ran; he 
leaped, and finally presented himself all breathless before Arthur 
and told him all: "Sire and my Liege," he cried, "I have 
staggered thy strong Gawain in a tilt for pastime; yea, he said it: 
joust can L Make me thy knight in secret! Let my name be 
hidden, and give me the first quest! " 

The great King smiled in sympathy with him and observed 
gently: " Son, thy good mother let me know of this, and asked me 
to yield thy wish. But, make thee my knight? Sir, my knights 
are sworn to vows of utter hardihood, utter gentleness, utter faith- 
fulness in love, and utter obedience to the King." 

And Gareth answered from his knees: "My King, for hardi- 
hood I can promise thee. For uttermost obedience, ask the 
seneschal, who, by the way, is no mellow master of meats and 



56 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

drinks! For loving, I love not yet, but if it pleases fortune to 
send me the maiden of my dreams, I can love truly, God willing." 

King Arthur was pleased with the boy's reply, and consented 
to make him a knight privately, providing his good friend and 
counselor, Sir Lancelot, did not object. 

So Lancelot was sent for and entered heartily into the plan, 
and Gareth was knighted and danced away to the kitchen, still 
in disguise. Then the King turned to his favorite knight and spoke 
gravely, saying: "Lancelot, I have given him the first quest. 
He is not proven. Look, therefore, when he calls for this in the 
hall; get you to horse and follow him far away. Cover the lions 
on your shield, that no man may know you, and see as far as you 
may that he be not slain or taken prisoner." 

Now it happened that early the next morning there came into 
Arthur's hall a beautiful maiden of high lineage. Like the May- 
blossom was her brow from which the golden-brown hair rippled 
back, her cheeks rivaled the bloom of the delicate apple blossom, 
her eyes gleamed like the starry night, her nose tip-tilted like the 
petal of a flower, and all about her was an airy gracefulness and 
perfume that made poor Gareth's head swim. 

Very proud was this maiden, with opinions of her own, and 
she proved them straightway by daring to lecture the King. " O 
King," she cried, " you have driven away the foe without, why 
suffer you the foe within? Every bridge, ford, and tower for 
half a league around is beset by bandits! Why sit you there? 
If / were King, I would not rest until even the loneliest hollow 
were as free from bloodshed as your altar cloth ! " 

" Comfort thyself," said Arthur softly, though his eyes 
twinkled and he was secretly much amused, " neither I nor mine 
rest. If my knights keep the vows they swore, the meanest moor- 
land of our realm shall in time be as safe, damsel, as the center 
of this hall. But pray what is thy name? And what thy need? " 

Pleased by the courteous, kindly manner of the King, the maiden 
spoke more gently: " My name is Lynette. I am come to seek 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 57 

aid for my sister, the Lady Lyonors, who is imprisoned in Castle 
Perilous by a wicked knight who seeks to force her to wed him. 
Now this castle is wound about by three loops of a river, and over 
it are three passings. Each passing is defended by a knight, and 
there is a fourth one, more powerful than all the others, who 
defends the castle. And I demand of thee thy chief knight. Sir 
Lancelot, to overcome these men, for no other can do it ! " 

" Ah ! " observed the King, still speaking softly, but with his 
mind fixed upon the lad, Gareth, to whom he now regretted he 
had been unwise enough to promise the first quest. " Damsel, you 
know this Order lives to crush all wrongers of the Realm. But 
tell me about these four, and who they are." 

" They are of the old knight-errantry," answered Lynette 
quickly. " No law or king have they, and courteous or bestial is 
their manner, as best pleases them. Proud of their strength are 
they, and they call themselves the Day. Morning Star, Noon 
Sun, and Evening Star are the three who guard the bridges, and 
the castle guard is a huge, savage man-beast, who names himself 
Night, or more often, Death. He wears a helmet mounted with 
a skull, and bears a skeleton figured on his arms. These are four 
fools, King, but mighty men; and therefore am I come for Lance- 
lot." 

Hearing this, Gareth, with kindling eyes, called from where 
he stood, a head taller than those about him in the throng: "A 
boon. Sir King, this quest! " Then, as Sir Kay, who stood near 
him, groaned like a wounded bull, he continued excitedly : " Yea, 
King, thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am L But I am mighty 
through thy meats and drinks, and I can topple over a hundred 
such! Thy promise. King!" 

And Arthur, glancing at him with the frowning brows of per- 
plexity, exclaimed shortly: "Go! Thou art worthy!" 

And all the hearers were amazed. 

As for the maiden, Lynette, anger, shame, and pride chased 
away the May-white of her brow. Raising high her dimpled arms, 



^8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

she cried scornfully: " Fie on thee, King! I asked for thy chief 
knight, and thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave ! " Then, ere 
man could stay her, she turned and flew swiftly from the hall to 
her horse without the door, and galloped away through the weird 
white gate, never pausing until she reached the tourney field where 
she burst into angry tears, murmuring chokingly, " Kitchen-knave, 
forsooth ! Fie upon him ! " 

In the meantime. Sir Gareth fled another way to where stood 
a horse. King Arthur's gift, the worth of half a town, a war horse 
of the best, held in waiting, with spear and shield, by the two 
who had followed Gareth from the North. Loosening a 
string, his kitchen garb fell off and he stood revealed before all 
the kitchen thralls and curious knights who had followed him, a 
noble knight In glittering, jeweled armor. From all the by- 
standers rose a cry of admiration, and the kitchen-knaves threw 
up their caps, shouting lustily : " God bless the King and all his 
fellowship ! " 

Then, followed by the cheers and good wishes of all save the 
jealous-hearted Sir Kay, who cursed and grumbled so loudly that 
Lancelot rebuked him sorely, Gareth passed out from the gate 
and spurred his horse to where the maiden still lingered by the 
tourney field, murmuring: "Wherefore did the King scorn me? 
For, if it were impossible to send Lancelot, at least he might have 
yielded to me one of those who tilt for lady's love and glory here, 
rather than — O sweet Heaven! O fie upon him! — his kitchen- 
knave! " 

When Gareth, looking full noble and handsome in his brave 
attire, came up and bowed low in courtly fashion before her, say- 
ing, " Maiden, the quest is mine. Lead, and I follow," she cried 
shrilly : " Hence ! Avoid ! Thou smellest all of kitchen grease ! 
And look who comes behind ! " 

At this moment an angry bellowing came over Gareth's shoul- 
der, and the voice of Sir Kay cried: " Knowest thou not me, 
thy master? I am Kay, We lack thee by the hearth." 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 59 

Turning quickly, Gareth beheld the pompous seneschal astride 
a borrowed horse, and his brow grew black. " Master no more ! " 
he cried scornfully. " Too well I know thee, the most ungentle 
knight in Arthur's hall." With that he quickly unseated Kay, 
and leaving him with a slight sword prick in his shoulder, galloped 
after the fast flying maiden. 

When the heart of her good horse was well-nigh ready to burst 
with violence of the pace, the maiden perforce drew rein, and, 
overtaken, spoke : 

" What dost thou, scullion, in my fellowship ? Deemest 
thou that I accept thee more that by some device full cow- 
ardly thou hast overthrown thy master? Thou dish-washer 
and broach-turner ! To me thou smellest all of the kitchen as be- 
fore ! " 

" Damsel," Sir Gareth answered gently, refusing to be rebuked 
or angered by the hasty words or the scorn In her beautiful face, 
" whatever you will, and whatever you say, I leave not until I 
finish this fair quest, or die." 

"Aye, wilt thou finish It?" scoffed the maiden tantallzlngly. 
^' Sweet lord, how like a noble knight he talks ! The listening 
rogue hath caught the manner of it. But, knave, thou shalt be 
met with knave, and by such a one that thou, for all the kitchen 
brews that were ever supped, shalt not once dare to look him In the 
face." 

" I shall try," said Gareth, with a smile that maddened her, and 
away she flashed again down the long avenues of the boundless 
wood. 

But, after a time, she drew rein and turned hesitatingly to the 
despised knave at her side, and his heart bounded as it seemed 
to him there was less of scorn In her fair face. " Sir Kitchen- 
knave, I have missed the only way where Arthur's men are 
stationed through the wood, and this forest Is nigh as full 
of thieves as leaves. We are lost. If both be slain, then I am 
rid of thee. But yet. Sir Scullion, life Is sweet, — and canst thou 



6o THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

use that spear of thine? Fight if thou knowest how; for, thanks 
to Arthur's scanty grace, I have missed the road! " 

And Gareth tried to reassure the maiden, but finding she would 
not Hsten to him, determined to ride bravely by her side and prove 
his right to knighthood if he could. They were even then climb- 
ing the long slope of a hill, and, when they came to the summit, 
they beheld in the valley beyond a gloomy-shaded mere, and on 
its banks were six strong men about to throw a bound man into 
its depths. 

And even as Gareth and the maiden looked, a frightened serv- 
ing man burst through the bracken and cried to the knight: " Help, 
my lord ! The villains are drowning the baron, my master, a serv- 
ant of King Arthur! " 

Gareth needed no more words; indeed he would probably have 
gone to the help of the outnumbered man had no one appeared to 
beg aid. With a hastily murmured word of assurance to Lynette, 
he swooped down upon the villains and smote them hip and thigh. 
Three of them were stretched senseless upon the ground, and the 
other three ran screaming into the forest. Then Gareth loosed 
the stone from off the captive baron's neck, freed him of his bonds, 
and helped him to his feet. 

" Oh, my friend," cried the baron, stretching out his hand to 
Gareth, '* it is well that you came ! Those rogues had soon made 
short work of me. Good cause is theirs; for it hath long been 
my custom, if I caught a thief, to tie a stone around his neck and 
drown him here. Many of them are rotting in these waters, and 
at night, so the servants say, they slip loose from the stone and 
dance upon the mere ! But, now that you have saved my life, and 
it is worth somewhat as a cleanser of this wood, let me reward 
you." 

" No," answered Gareth quickly. " For the deed's sake have 
I done this deed in uttermost obedience to the King. But wilt 
thou give this maiden shelter for the night?" 

" Right welcome are ye both ! " responded the baron heartily, 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 6i 

again extending his hand to Gareth. " I well believe thou art 
of our good Arthur's table ! " 

A light laugh now broke from Lynette, who had joined them 
as soon as the baron was freed. " Aye, of a truth he is, being 
Arthur's kitchen-knave ! " she cried. " But do not think, scullion, 
that you are more welcome to me because ye have put to rout a lot 
of craven foresters ! A thresher could have scattered them with 
his flail! Nay, you smell of the kitchen still! " 

Gareth answered never a word, but signed for the baron to 
lead on, and there came to him a half-regretful wish that the 
baron had not crossed his path, for the maiden had been half will- 
ing to trust him when no other protection was nigh! 

The Lord Baron's home proved to be a castle rich and fair, and 
he eagerly spread before his guests all its hospitalities. Soon he 
invited them to partake of a feast that had that day been held in 
the castle, and placed a roasted peacock before Lynette, seating 
Gareth by her side. 

The maiden rose at once in angry scorn. " Baron, this Is too 
much discourtesy, putting this knave by my side. Hear me : this 
morning I went In all confidence to Arthur's Court and begged for 
his best knight. Sir Lancelot, to rescue my sister, Lady Lyonors, who 
Is held prisoner by a man-savage In the Castle Perilous. Now, 
this lout, this kitchen-knave rose up and bawled out for the quest, 
and Arthur, suddenly gone mad, granted it. Think of it ! A vil- 
lain fitter to stick swine than to ride abroad redressing women's 
wrongs ! " 

" Methinks thou forgettest thyself, maiden!" answered the 
baron sternly. "Even a kitchen helper can be an honest man! 
And one can see at a glance that this man is not In his right a 
kitchen-knave; a knight Is he, and a most brave and noble one! " 

So saying, the Lord Baron turned his back none too politely 
upon the indignant maiden, and seating Gareth at another table 
placed himself beside him. " Friend, it matters not to me If thou 
be'st a kitchen-knave, or If the King or yonder damsel be mad. 



62 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Thou strikest a strong stroke, and thou art a goodly knight and 
the saver of my life! If thou harkenest to my advice, thou wilt 
take yonder foolish Miss back to Camelot, and let Lancelot or 
some other fight her battles ! " 

But as Gareth would not turn back for the maiden's sneering 
words, neither would he pause for the friendly baron's advice, and 
so in early morning they set out, the maiden still as scornful and 
unyielding as before. At last they came by a rough-thicketed road 
to where a small bridge spanned a deep, narrow, frothing stream. 
On the farther side arose a silk pavilion, gay with the golden 
streaks and rays of the Lent-lily, save where the dome rose high 
and purple. From the top floated a slender crimson banner, and 
beneath, a lawless warrior paced unarmed. 

" Damsel," he cried, " is this the warrior bold that thou hast 
"brought from Arthur's Court to struggle for the pass ? " 
^ "Nay, Sir Morning Star," answered the maiden, being divided 
In her scorn between Gareth and the warrior before her. " The 
King in utter scorn of thee and all thy folly hath sent his kitchen- 
knave. Beware lest he fall on thee suddenly and slay thee un- 
armed, for he is not a knight, but a knave." 

Gareth flushed crimson, but made no move while the warrior 
called for the Daughters of the Dawn to approach and arm him, 
waiting patiently until three beautiful, silken-clad, bare-footed, 
rosy-cheeked maidens, all glistening with dew-drops, appeared and 
clad the warrior in a blue armor and gave him a blue shield, 
with the morning-star engraved thereon. 

Lynette was not unmindful of her knight's gentle behavior, or of 
the admiration of the scene before him which lurked in his eyes, 
but she turned to him tauntingly, nevertheless, and asked: " Why 
stare you so? You shake in fear! There is yet time; flee down 
the valley before he gets to horse. Who will cry shame? You 
are not knight but knave ! " 

And Gareth replied quickly: " Damsel, whether knave or 
knight, far liefer had I fight a score of times than hear thee so 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 63 

revile me. But truly thy words send a strength of anger through 
me. I know that I shall overthrow him! " 

But now the Morning Star cried to Gareth : " A kitchen-knave 
sent in scorn of me, such I fight not, but answer scorn for scorn. 
It were a shame to do him further wrong than to set him on his 
feet and take his horse and arms and return him to the King! 
Come, leave thy lady, knave. It beseemeth not a knave to ride 
with a lady ! " 

" Dog, thou liest ! " cried Gareth angrily. " I spring from 
loftier lineage than thine own." 

Forthwith the two sprang angrily at each other, and Gareth 
lashed so fiercely with his brand that he soon had his foe groveling 
on the ground. 

" Take not my life! I yield," cried the warrior. 

" So this damsel ask it of me," answered Gareth, " I accord It 
easily as a grace." 

"Insolent scullion!" cried the maiden, reddening. "I ask of 
thee! I bound to thee for any favor asked! Then shall he die." 
But as Gareth began to unlace the warrior's helmet, she shrieked: 
" Be not so hardy, scullion, as to slay one nobler than thyself! " 

" Damsel," returned Gareth graciously, " thy charge is an 
abounding pleasure to me. Knight, thy life is at her command. 
Arise and get thee quickly to Arthur's hall, and say his kitchen- 
knave hath sent thee. See thou cravest his pardon for breaking 
the laws ! Thy shield Is mine ! Farewell ! Damsel, do thou 
lead, and I will follow." 

And fast away flew Lynette, but when he had overtaken her, she 
turned and spoke: " Methought, knave, when I watched thee 
striking on the bridge, the savor of thy kitchen came upon me a 
little faintlier; but the wind hath changed, I scent it twenty-fold." 
And then she sang a mocking little song about the beauty of the 
Morning Star, pausing finally to say: " But thou had best take 
counsel and be gone. For near here is the second brother in their 
fool's parable, and he will pay thee all thy wages and to boot. 



64 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Care not for shame, run! Thou art not knight but knave!" 

" Parables? " queried Gareth, laughingly. " Hear a parable of 
the knave. When I was kitchen-knave among the rest, fierce was 
the hearth, and one of my mates owned a rough dog, to whom 
he cast his coat, saying, ' Guard it,' and there was none dared meddle 
with it. And such a coat art thou, and such a dog am I, and the 
King hath given thee to me to guard. And if knave does thee 
service as full knight, then he is as good as any knight towards 
thy sister's freeing." 

" Aye, Sir Knave," replied Lynette haughtily. " But because 
thou strikest as a knight, being but a knave, I hate thee all the 
more." 

" Yes, fair damsel, but in that you are grievously wrong. You 
should worship me the more, that, being but knave, I can over- 
throw thine enemies." 

" Aye, aye," she cried tauntingly, " but thou shalt meet thy 
match! " 

When they came nigh to the second river-loop, they beheld the 
second warrior. Noonday Sun, astride a huge, bay horse. His 
shield and armor were burnished so brightly that they cast sparks 
in the sun, and Gareth was well-nigh blinded by their blazing 
splendor. 

"AvauntI What dost thou, brother. In my marches here?" 
roared the warrior. 

And Lynette answered shrilly: " Here is a kitchen-knave from 
Arthur's Hall! He hath overthrown thy brother. Morning Star, 
and hath his arms." 

Noonday Sun cried out angrily and plunged into the foaming 
ford, but Gareth met him half way. No room was there in the 
whirling waters for lance or tourney skill, and Gareth feared he 
would be overcome, for his horse was frightened and hard to 
control. But, as the warrior raised his ponderous arm for the 
fifth mighty stroke, his horse slipped and went down in the stream. 
The Noonday Sun was now at the mercy of the waters. Gareth, 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 65 

however, was too noble to let his enemy drown, and after a hard 
struggle succeeded in drawing him out on the rocks. Shocked 
and breathless, the warrior could fight no more, and so, perforce, 
yielded. Gareth charged him to deliver himself to King Arthur, 
promising to plead for him on his return, and then bade the maiden 
lead on. 

Quietly she obeyed. 

" Ah, damsel," laughed Gareth, unwise in his joy, " hath not 
the good wind changed again? " 

"Nay," answered the maiden scornfully, "not a point! Nor 
art thou victor here. There is a ledge of slate across the ford, 
and the Noonday Sun's horse stumbled thereon. Yea, for I saw 
it." 

Then she began to sing: 

" O sun, that wakest all to bliss or pain, 
O moon, that layest all to sleep again, 
Shine sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me. 

"But what knowest thou of love song or of love?" she then 
demanded of Gareth, and without pausing for his reply went on 
singing: 

" O dewy flowers that open to the sun, 
O dewy flowers that close when day is done, 
Blow sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me. 

" But how mayest thou know of flowers? " she queried. " Ex- 
cept, perchance, to garnish meats with. Hath not our good King 
who lent me thee, the flower of kitchendom, a foolish love for 
flowers? What put you round the pasty? Wherewithal did you 
deck the boar's head? With flowers? Nay, the boar had rose- 
mary and bay." 

Gareth answered only with a smile, and his blue eyes laughed 
tenderly at her. Lynette sang on : 



66 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" O birds that warble to the morning sky, 
O birds that warble as the day goes by, 
Sing sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me. 

"But what canst thou know of birds?" she said. " Lark» 
mavis, merle, or linnet? What dreamest thou when they utter 
their sweet, sun-worshiping May music? Thinkest thou: ' these be 
for the snare, these for the spit? ' But thou hast fried thy last one, 
except thou turn to fly, for yonder is the third stout fool awaiting 
thee!" 

Gareth turned from silent admiration of his companion and 
gazed in amazement in the direction which she pointed. It was 
but too true. Over beyond a bridge of treble bow, against the 
rose-red western sky, stood, seemingly all naked, the knight who 
named himself Evening Star. 

"Zounds!" cried Gareth, aghast. "Why does the madman 
wait naked there In the open dayshine?" 

"Nay," replied the maiden, "he is not naked; only wrapped 
in hardened skins that fit him like his own. If you cleave his armor, 
the skins will turn the blade of your sword ! " 

The Evening Star now shouted from the bridge: " O brother- 
star, why shine you here so low? Your ward is higher up. Have 
you slain the damsel's champion?" 

" No star of thine," cried the maiden quickly, perceiving that 
the knight had mistaken Gareth for his brother on account of 
the Morning Sun's shield which he bore, " but shot from Arthur's 
heaven with all disaster unto thee and thine ! Both thy younger 
brethren have gone down before this youth, and so wilt thou. Sir 
Star. Art thou not old?" 

" Old, princess ! " cried the knight, " both old and hard. Old 
with the might and breath of twenty boys." 

" Old and over-bold in brag! " said Gareth angrily. " But that 
same strength which overthrew the Noonday Sun can throw the 
Evening Star ! " 

The Evening Star now blew a fierce and deadly blast upon his 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 67 

horn, that made Lynette shudder and cover her cars. " Approach 
and arm me," he cried hoarsely. And straightway from out the 
old russet, storm-beaten, many-stained pavilion came a grizzled 
dame, and armed him in old arms. His helm had only a drying 
evergreen for a crest, and on his shield the Star of Even blazed but 
dimly. 

The two knights rushed madly toward each other and met mid- 
way upon the bridge. At the first blow Gareth unseated his foe, 
and when he arose, met him with drawn sword and overthrew 
him again. But up like fire he started, and as oft as Gareth brought 
him groveling on his knees, so often he vaulted up again; till Gareth 
panted hard, and his great heart, foredooming all his trouble vain, 
labored within him. 

Presently he half despaired, and Lynette, seeing this, cried out: 
" Well done, brave knight! " And again, " O good knight-knave, 
— O knave, as noble as any of all the knights, shame me not! 
Shame me not! For I have prophesied! Strike! Thou art 
worthy of the Table Round! His arms are old; he trusts his 
hardened skin. Strike ! Strike ! The wind will never change 
again ! " 

Her words put new courage into Gareth's heart and gave the 
strength of Samson to his arm. He hewed off great pieces of 
the hardened armor-skin, but could no more wholly subdue his en- 
emy than could the loud waves, rolling ridge on ridge, submerge 
the springing buoy that rides at sea. At length Gareth's sword 
clashed with his foeman's and broke it at the hilt, and he thought 
to claim the victory. But the warrior, all unknightlike, sprang upon 
him and wrapped him in his wiry arms. Struggling, striving, pant- 
ing, each sought to throw the other into the stream, until at last, 
straining every nerve, Gareth prevailed; then, turning, said to the 
maiden in a smothered voice: "Lead on. I follow." 

" Nay," cried Lynette, holding out her hand. " I lead no longer. 
Ride thou at my side. Thou art the kingliest of all the kitchen- 
knaves ! " 



68 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Off came Gareth's jeweled helm, as would a courtier's hat of 
plumes, and low he bowed until his lips touched the tips of her 
dainty fingers. Then, swiftly mounting his horse, he wheeled him 
into the path, while the maiden sang joyously: — 

** O trefoil, sparkling on the rainy plain, 
O rainbow with three colors after rain, 
Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath smiled on me. 

" Sir," she then murmured, " and, good faith, I fain had added 
Knight, but that I heard thee call thyself a knave ! Shamed am 
I that I so rebuked, reviled, and mis-said thee ! Noble I am, 
and thought the King did but scorn me and mine. Grant now thy 
pardon, friend, for thou hast ever answered courteously, and wholly 
bold art thou, and meek withal as any of Arthur's best, but, being 
knave, hast mazed my wit. I marvel what thou art." 

" Damsel," returned Gareth gently, " you are not all to blame, 
saving that you mistrusted our good King. You said your say; 
my answer was my deed. I hold he scarce is knight, yea, but half- 
man, nor meet to fight for gentle damsel, who lets his heart be 
stirred with foolish heat at the damsel's waywardness. Shamed? 
Care not ! Your unkind sayings fought for me : and seeing now 
your words are fair, methinks there rides no knight, not even 
Lancelot, that has the force to quell me." 

So they rode in silence until nigh upon that hour when the lone 
heron forgets his melancholy, and twilight falls. Then the maiden 
turned smilingly to her companion, and told him of a cavern near 
at hand where the Lady of Lyonors had promised to secrete bread, 
baked meats, and good red wine of the Southland. Pointing the 
way past a narrow comb wherein were slabs of rock with sculptured 
figures of knights on horseback, she observed : " Sir Knave, my 
knight, a hermit once was here, whose holy hand hath fashioned 
on the rock the war of Time against the soul of man. Yon four 
Day fools hath sucked their allegory from these damp walls, and 
taken but the form. Know you not these?" 



GARETH OF ORKNEY ^ 69 

And Gareth looked and read, in letters such as the Roman 
standard bearers carved upon the cliffs of the streaming river Gelt, 
" Phosphorus, Meridies, Hesperus, Nox, Mors," each beneath a 
figure of an armed man, the faces all turned forward. 

*' Follow the faces, and we shall find the cave," said Lynette. 
*' But look, who comes behind? " 

Gareth turned, and in so doing let the Morning Sun's shield be 
seen. 

" Stay, felon knight," cried the pursuer, " I avenge thee for my 
friend." 

With that he charged at Gareth, and before the young man had 
time to defend himself he lay sprawled upon the grass. It was 
all done so suddenly and withal so neatly that a laugh of admira- 
tion broke from the unfortunate victim. 

The sound of mirth, so inopportune, jarred upon Lynette. 
" Shamed and overthrown and tumbled back into a kitchen-knave, 
why laugh you? " she demanded harshly. " Have you but blown 
your boast in vain? " 

" Nay, noble maiden," answered Gareth penitently, " but that 
I, son of old King Lot and good Queen Bellicent of Orkney, victor 
of the bridges and the ford and knight of Arthur, should thus be 
thrown so easily ! Surely it Is some device of sorcery or un- 
happiness ! Out sword ; we are thrown ! " 

"Prince!" cried the strange knight joyfully, putting out his 
hand to stay the other. " Gareth ! It was all through the mere 
awkwardness of one who came to help you, not to harm ! I am 
Lancelot. Sent to give you aid by our good King, if it so chanced 
that you had need of a strong arm, and as glad to find you whole 
as you were to join our Order true! " 

" Lancelot ! " cried Gareth, in amazement. " Thou ! O ! 
Lancelot, thine the hand that threw me! Praise the saints! For 
'tis no shame to be thrown by thee, the great Prince of Knights ! " 

And Lancelot laughed and cordially shook his out-stretched hand, 
but Lynette cried petulantly: " Lancelot, why came you not when 



70 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

called? And wherefore do you come now when you are not called? 
I gloried In my knave, who being still rebuked, would answer as 
courteous still as any knight. But now, if he's a knight, the marvel 
dies, and leaves me fooled and tricked and only wondering why I 
am played upon, and whether I and mine be scorned. For where 
should truth be found but In Arthur's hall and in Arthur's pres- 
ence? Knight, knave, prince and fool, I hate thee and forever! " 

Gareth stood dumb under the maiden's last words, and so Lance- 
lot spoke: " Blessed be thou. Sir Gareth! Knight art thou to the 
King's best wish. O maiden, are you wise to call him shamed, who 
is but overthrown? Well has he striven, and he and his good 
horse are tired; yet I felt his manhood through all his weary lance's 
charge. The stream has he freed, justice wreaked on his foes, 
and when reviled, was answered graciously. Then, too, he makes 
merry when overthrown. Hall, Knight and Prince, and of our 
Table Round, I salute thee ! " 

Then he went on to explain to Gareth how the King had bade 
him cover his shield- and follow, how he had been delayed by 
being obliged to see the wounded, bellowing Sir Kay home, and 
how he had lost them, through their losing the trail. 

The maiden listened to all this moodily, and when Lancelot, half 
vexed, turned to her and told all the story of Gareth, she answered 
yet more petulantly than before : " Worse Is being fooled of others 
than to fool one's self! " Then she brushed her brow wearily, 
and In so doing must have cleared her face of frowns, for she turned 
smilingly to Lancelot and said In a different voice: "There Is a 
cave somewhere near with meats and drinks, forage for the horses, 
and flint for fire, but all about it flies the honeysuckle. Help us 
to find It!" 

When they had sought the cave and found the comforts hidden 
there, Sir Gareth sank Into a heavy sleep, but yet he turned and 
tossed and seemed uncomfortable. So the maiden took his head 
into her lap, softly and carefully, so as not to waken him, and 
she brooded tenderly over him. As she sat thus, she mused 



GARETH OF ORKNEY 71 

silently: " Sound sleep be thine! Sound cause to sleep hast thou. 
Wake lusty! Seem I not as tender to him as any mother? Aye, 
but such a one as has all day long rated her child and vexed his 
day, but blesses him asleep. . . . How sweetly smells the 
honeysuckle in the hushed night, as if the world were one of utter 
peace, and love, and gentleness! . . . O Lancelot, Lancelot! 
full merry am I to find that my goodly knave is a noble knight ! 
But see I have sworn to the castle guard to bring you to fight 
with him! Now, if you go up with us, then will the rebel knight 
attack you, and my knight-knave will miss the full flower of his 
accomplishment." 

Lancelot came over to her, smiling kindly, and he noted the 
white hand unconsciously smoothing Gareth's hair. " We must 
leave it to him, for the quest is his," said he. " And, peradventure, 
he you name may know my shield. I'll tell you, damsel ! Let 
Gareth, if he will, change his shield for mine, and take my horse, 
for he is fresh and needs not to be spurred, loving the battle as 
well as he who rides him." 

" Spoken like Lancelot! " agreed the maiden cordially. 

So they talked and planned until at last Gareth showed signs 
of waking, and Lynette put him quietly away and slipped blushingly 
out, leaving to Lancelot the task of persuading Gareth. What- 
ever he said we know not, but we are afraid the good knight told 
tales out of school; for when the maiden returned there was a 
new light in Gareth's eyes, and a joy in his heart that showed in 
his voice. 

He was impatient to gain victory. " Come, let us go," he cried. 

Silently the three traversed the silent field. A smile lay on 
Gareth's lips and his dreams were passing fair. But only two 
remarks did he make which would show the tenor of his thoughts 
to his companions: — Once, a star shot downward, and he cried: 
" Lo ! the foe falls ! " Again, an owl whooped in the forest, and 
he exclaimed, " Hark, the victor pealing there ! " 

Suddenly she who rode at his left grasped the shield which Lance- 



72 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

lot had lent him, pleading eagerly: " Yield, yield him this again. 
'Tis he must fight! I curse the tongue that all through yesterday 
reviled thee, and hath wrought on Lancelot now to lend thee horse 
and shield! Wonders thou hast done; miracles thou canst not. 
Here is glory enough in having flung the three. I see thee maimed 
and mangled ! Do not fight, I pray thee ! I swear thou canst not 
fling the fourth ! " 

" But wherefore, damsel? " queried Gareth laughingly, albeit his 
blue eyes dwelt tenderly upon her. " Tell me all you know. You 
cannot frighten me. No rough face or voice, brute bulk of limb, 
or boundless savagery will turn me from the quest." 

" Nay, Prince," she answered. " I never looked upon his face, 
seeing he never rides abroad by day; but I have watched him pass 
like a phantom, chilling the night. Neither have I heard his voice. 
Always he made a mouthpiece of his page who came and went, and 
still reported him as closing in himself the strength of ten, and 
when very angry massacring man, woman, lad, and girl — yea, the 
soft babe 1 Some hold that he hath swallowed infant flesh ! 
Monster! O Prince, I went for Lancelot first! The quest is 
Lancelot's; give him back the shield." 

" Yea, my lady Lynette," laughed Gareth. *' If he will joust 
for it and win it as the better man ! " 

Then Lancelot, seeing Gareth's heart was set upon finishing the 
quest, contented himself by offering all manner of advice on the 
devisings of chivalry; how best to manage horse, lance, sword and 
shield, and so fill up with skill the gap where force might fail. 

But his words went in one ear and out the other; Gareth could 
not fix his attention upon the friendly counsel, and at last cried 
out in protest: " Alas, Sir Lancelot, here be rules, but I can master 
only one — to dash against mine enemy and to win. Full many a 
time have I watched thee victor in the joust and seen thy way, 
but I am not skilled like thee." 

" Then Heaven help thee," sighed Lynette, greatly troubled. 

A dark cloud now rose up and shrouded all the stars in gloom. 



GARETH OF ORKNEY -ji, 

Gaily the three essayed to talk, striving thus to cheer each other, 
but ever the black pall seemed to sink lower and wrap them in 
silence. At last the maiden pressed her white palfrey close to 
Gareth's horse, clasped his arm, and pointing unsteadily ahead, 
whispered, " There! " 

They had reached the goal at last. Only a short distance away 
stood the Castle Perilous, and right beside it was a huge, black 
pavilion with a trailing, black banner. Before Lancelot and 
Lynette had time to think, Gareth seized the long, black horn which 
hung conveniently near on the wall, and blew a hideous blast that 
went shivering through the night and echoing in all the castle walls. 
Lights soon twinkled here and there throughout the castle, and when 
Gareth, impatient, blew another blast, muffled voices could be heard 
and hollow tramplings up and down. Then far above them a win- 
dow burst into glowing bloom and from out the radiance leaned a 
beautiful woman. 

" Lyonors ! " exclaimed Lynette eagerly. " Have courage ! 
Here is a knight come to deliver thee ! " 

It is doubtful if the woman above heard the cheering message, 
but she undoubtedly guessed its import. Radiant smiles lighted up 
her face and she extended her hands in eager welcome. 

" God grant you save her," cried Lynette to Gareth. 

His answer was another lusty blast which raised the echoes far 
and near. Then the great black doors of the huge pavilion slowly 
folded back, and there came riding out a hideous thing with the 
white breast-bone, barren ribs, and grinning skull of Death. A 
monster thing it was, mounted on a coal black horse, with night 
black arms, and slowly it came out into the dim dawn, then paused 
and spoke no word. 

" Fool," cried Gareth angrily, " men say thou hast the strength 
of ten. Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God hath given thee, 
but must trick thyself out in ghastly imageries of that which Life 
hath done with, and the dull clod hides with manthng flowers for 
pity?" 



74 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

But the thing spoke no word hi reply, and all about there seemed 
to be gathering a swift, boundless current of horror. The Lady 
Lyonors wrung her hands and wept despairingly; a handmaiden be- 
hind her swooned; Sir Gareth's skin prickled with fear; and even the 
bold Sir Lancelot felt all through his warm blood a chill like that 
of ice. 

All at once the fearless steed which Gareth rode neighed fiercely, 
and Death's dark war-horse bounded forward. Then those that 
did not blink with terror, saw to their amazement that Death 
was cast to the ground, but slowly rose again. With two power- 
ful blows Gareth split open the impostor's armor and then — most 
wonderful to relate — out sprang a beautiful, blooming boy, fresh 
as a new-born flower. 

"O knight, slay me not!" he pleaded. "My three brothers 
bade me do it to make a horror all about, and stay the world from 
Lady Lyonors. They never dreamed the passes could be crossed." 

Most graciously Gareth answered, for his heart was thrilled 
with wild joy: " My fair child, what madness made thee challenge 
the chief knight of Arthur's hall? " 

" Fair Sir, they made me do it. They hate the King and Lance- 
lot, the King's friend. They hoped to slay him somewhere on the 
stream. They never thought harm would come near me. They 
did not dream the stream could be opened." 

Lady Lyonors now appeared at the open house door, with hearty 
thanks, and a cordial welcome for her deliverer and the dear sister 
who had periled her life to bring him. Everything in the castle 
was placed at their disposal, and all the household waxed merry 
with dance, revel, and song over their deliverance from the grim 
enemy, Death. 

And in the heart of Gareth joy was crowned, for he had won 
the quest and proven to his beloved King how well he could strike 
for Christ and the right. Those who told the story in the old times 
say that Gareth wedded Lady Lyonors, but those who told it later 
say it was Lynette. And to our minds the latter tale seems truer. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 

ON a certain Whitsuntide King Arthur held a great Feast of 
the Pentecost at Caerleon upon Usk. In the midst of the 
rejoicings a forester of Dean, wet from the woods, came 
with the tidings that he had seen a beautiful milky-white hart In 
the forest near the banks of the Severn. Now King Arthur dearly 
loved the chase, so he immediately ordered the horns to be blown 
announcing a big hunt on the morrow. 

The Queen was also much interested In the chase, so she eagerly 
petitioned and obtained leave to see the hunt. Unfortunately she 
slept late the next morning, and when she awoke all the eager 
hunters had gone. But the Queen was not to be disappointed, and 
set out as soon as she could make ready, with only a single maiden 
for a companion, intending, since she was so late, to view the scene 
from a certain high knoll In the woodland. As they waited, all 
ears listening for the hounds, there was heard a sound of gallop- 
ing hoofs, and presently Prince Geraint, a knight of Arthur from 
the neighborhood of Devon, appeared. 

*' Ah, Prince," cried Queen Guinevere graciously, " thou art 
late, late! Later than we, If Indeed," glancing doubtfully at his 
silken holiday attire, " thou hast Intended to take part In the hunt 
at all?" 

*' Yes, noble Queen," replied the Prince, with low-bowed 
courtesy, " so late am I that I have left arms and hunting garb 
at home, and come like you only to see the hunt and not to share it." 

" Then wait with me," Invited the Queen pleasantly, " for on 
this knoll. If anywhere, we shall see the hounds. Often they break 
covert here at our feet." 

While they stood breathlessly listening for the on-coming bay- 

75 



76 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

ing of Cavall, the King's noblest hound, there rode past them an 
armed knight, with a lady and a dwarf. And the Queen, desiring 
to know the stranger knight's name, sent her maiden to Inquire of 
the dwarf what It might be. But the dwarf answered sharply that 
he would not tell, neither would he allow her to ask his master, 
saying that she was not worthy even to speak of him, and he lashed 
at her with his whip. So the maiden returned Indignantly to the 
Queen, and Geraint loyally made after the dwarf and questioned 
him, but with no better success — Indeed, the Impudent fellow 
struck the knight across the face with his whip so severely that th6 
blood started. Quickly the Prince gripped his gold-mounted sword, 
minded to destroy him, but not liking to pass arms with such a worm, 
he restrained himself and turned loyally to his Queen, saying: — 

" Most noble Queen, mightily will I avenge this insult which 
has been put upon you through your maiden ! I shall follow yon 
churlish dwarf and compel his master to come to you humbly and 
crave pardon. Though I ride only with my faithful sword, no 
doubt I can find armor along the way somewhere, for loan or for 
pledge, and, in three days, if I be not slain, I will come again. 
Farewell ! " 

"Farewell!" returned the Queen. "Be prosperous in this 
journey, fair Prince, as In all; and may you light on all things that 
you love, and live to wed with her whom first you love. But ere 
you wed with any, bring your bride — yea, though she be the daugh- 
ter of a king or a beggar from the hedge — and I will clothe her for 
her bridals like the sun." 

Half vexed at losing sight of the hunt, but more out of humor 
at the cause. Prince Geraint followed the three over field and dale, 
till they came at last to a little town hidden in the valley, on one 
side whereof was a newly-built fortress, and on the other an ancient 
castle, half in ruin. The three rode up to the fortress, entered 
therein, and were lost behind Its walls; but Geraint felt that he had 
tracked them to their lair, and so rode on wearily into town, seek- 
ing shelter for the night. But it seemed too busy a place for 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID jj 

strangers, and every one he spoke to was so full of bustle that he 
scarce took time to look at him and muttered something about " The 
Sparrow-hawk." 

Grown thoroughly Incensed at last, the Prince paused before 
an armorer's shop, where a man sat bowed above his work, riveting 
a helmet on his knee. Without turning around, he answered the 
Prince's question thus: " Friend, he that labors for the Sparrow- 
hawk has little time for idle questioners." 

This was the last straw, and all the Prince's anger was inflamed: 
" A thousand pips eat up your Sparrow-hawk! " he cried. " Tits, 
wrens, and all winged nothings pack him dead! Ye think the rustic 
cackle of your burg the murmur of the world! What is it to me? 
O wretched set of sparrows, one and all, who pipe of nothing but 
of sparrow-hawks ! Speak, if ye be not like the rest, hawk-mad. 
Where can I get shelter for the night? And arms, arms, arms 
to fight my enemy? Speak! " 

On the instant the armorer had turned amazed, and seeing one 
clad so gaily in purple silks, started up, helmet in hand, bowing low, 
and waiting for a chance to speak, which he did eagerly, as soon 
as the Prince paused. ''Pardon me, O stranger knight!" said 
he, " We hold a tourney here to-morrow morning, and there is 
scarcely time for all the work in hand. Arms? Truth, I know 
not; all are wanted here. Shelter? The town is full, but per- 
haps Earl Yniol, at the castle yonder beyond the bridge, would take 
you in." 

So Geraint turned shortly, a little spleenful still, and rode on- 
ward to the castle where a courteous, hoary-headed Earl, in a suit 
of frayed magnificence, listened kindly to his queries, and replied 
cordially: " Enter then, and partake of the slender entertainment 
of a house once rich, now poor, but ever open-doored." 

" Thanks, venerable friend," said Geraint laughingly. " So you 
do not serve me sparrow-hawk for supper, I will enter and eat 
with all the passion of a twelve hour fast." 

The old Earl sighed, then smiled, and answered, " Graver cause 



78 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

than yours is mine to curse this hedgerow thief, this Sparrow-hawk! 
But enter in; for, save you yourself desire it, we will not touch 
upon him even in jest." 

So Geraint rode into the courtyard, and looking about him saw 
that all was in ruins. The prickly thistle sprouted in the broken 
stones; here was a shattered archway plumed with fern; there was 
fallen a great part of a tower, and like a crag tumbled from a cliff 
was gay with wild flowers, while high above a piece of turret stair, 
worn by feet now silent, lay bare in the sun; and all about rose 
craggy gray walls half covered wtih luxuriant, ambitious ivy that 
sought in vain to spread an air of life and prosperity over all. And, 
as Geraint stood waiting, he heard the voice of a maiden singing 
in her bower; and so sweet was the voice that his heart was moved 
within him, and he said to himself: " Here, by the Grace of God, 
is the one voice for me ! " 

The song was that of Fortune and her wheel, and the maiden 
sang it with spirit, as though bidding defiance to the ups and downs 
of destiny : — 

" Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud ; 
Turn thy wild wheel thro' sunshine, storm, and cloud ; 
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate. 

" Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown ; 
With that wild wheel we go not up or down ; 
Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great. 

" Smile and we smile, the Iprds of many lands ; 
Frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands; 
For man is man and master of his fate. 

" Turn, turn thy wheel above the staring crowd ; 
Thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud ; 
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate." 

The song ceased, and the singer, a beautiful maiden, fair as 
a vermeil-white blossom, and clad in faded silk, came down. The 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 79 

Earl presented her as his daughter, the Lady Enid, and again 
Geraint thought: " Here is the one maiden in the world for me." 

*' Enid," spoke the old Earl, " the good knight's horse stands 
in the court; take him to stall, and give him corn, and then go to the 
town and buy us flesh and wine ; and we will make us merry as we 
may. Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great." 

The maiden came forward willingly, but Geraint could not bear 
to have one so daintily beautiful wait upon him as a servant might, 
and eagerly expressed his willingness to care for his own horse. 
Yniol, however, caught his purple scarf and held him back, say- 
ing: "Forbear! Rest! The good house, though ruined, my 
son, endures not that her guest should serve himself." 

And so Geraint was obliged by courtesy to yield to the Earl, 
but his eyes followed the maiden and he marked her proud, quick- 
stepped entrance into the town and her coming forth, and always he 
admired her yet the more. Now the hall where they sat was per- 
force kitchen and dining-room as well, so he wonderingly watched 
the maiden as she moved quickly about preparing and serving the 
meal with wondrous grace and sweet simplicity. As she stood be- 
hind the board and waited upon her father, mother, and himself, 
he felt within him a great longing to kiss the dainty hands that 
served him. And afterward as she busied herself now here, now 
there, about the hall at her lowly handmaid work, his eyes fol- 
lowed her, and he would fain have offered help, yet dared not. 

At last he forced himself to turn aside and address the Earl. 
" Fair host and Earl, I pray your courtesy. This Sparrow-hawk, 
what is he? Tell me of him. But stay, tell me not his name! 
For if he be that knight whom I saw ride into the new fortress 
beyond your town this evening, I have sworn to force it from him !. 
I am Geraint of Devon, a knight of Arthur, and this morning I 
heard the strange knight's dwarf offer insult to the Queen, 
through her maid In waiting, by refusing to tell the name of his lord 
at the Queen's request. You see I had ridden out but to see the 
hunt and could not fight him then, as I had left my armor at home. 



8o THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Therefore, I followed him, hoping to find arms wherewith to break 
his pride and humble him before the Queen." 

"Ah!" cried the old Earl, with kindling eyes, "art thou in- 
deed Geraint, he whose name Is far-sounded among men for his 
noble deeds? Well might I have known when first I beheld your 
stately presence that you were one who was wont to sit at meat 
in Arthur's hall at Camelot! My house Is honored, and happy am 
1 to have you beneath my crumbling roof to-night ! Full often have 
we heard praises of your feats of arms, and this dear child will 
bear me witness that many a time have we discussed your noble 
deeds." The Earl paused to draw the fair Enid, who had just 
come to his side, affectionately down upon the wide arm of his 
chair, and then continued, while Geraint envied him his privileges: 
'^' As to this Sparrow-hawk whereof you speak, he Is my nephew 
and sometime suitor for this fair hand," lifting Enid's hand 
caressingly to his lips. " But I knew his fierce, turbulent spirit, 
and refused him, and since — my curses be upon him ! — he has 
contrived by foul means to lay low the house of Yniol. With false 
tales he raised my own town against me In the night, sacked my 
house, ousted me from my earldom, and built that fortress beyond 
the bridge to overawe my friends, for truly there are those who 
love me yet. He keeps me isolated in this ruined castle, and why 
he does not kill me I know not, unless it be that he despises me 
too much; and I — I sometimes despise myself, for I have sub- 
mitted all too gently and failed to use my power, but in my old age 
I am some way very wise or very foolish, for I can not bear to fight, 
^nd so I submit patiently to my wrongs." 

" Let me fight for you, friend! " cried Geraint, filled with sudden 
pity for the trembling old man. " My limbs are young and strong, 
and I am sworn to right wrong wherever found ! Tell me where 
I may get arms, and at to-morrow's tourney I will lay the Sparrow- 
hawk low in the dust. Right humbly shall he apologize to our 
most gracious Queen, and every farthing of thine Inheritance shall 
he restore to thee, else will I have his heart's blood! " 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 8i 

"Spoken like a true knight of Arthur!" exclaimed the Earl. 
*' Aye, son, and I could furnish you with arms. Old and rusted, 
'tis true, but still fit to serve you in good stead; but if I did so, you 
could not fight the Sparrow-hawk at the tourney; for his rules are 
that no man shall tilt except the lady he loves best be there. The 
thing is managed in this wise : two forks are fixed into the meadow 
ground, and over these is placed a silver wand, tipped with a golden 
sparrow-hawk. This is the prize of beauty, and 'tis given to the 
winning knight for the pleasure of his lady love. The Sparrow- 
hawk hath always won it for the lady with him, and so hath justly 
earned his name. Perforce thou seest why thou canst not tilt with 
him at the tourneys, but possibly thou wilt take the day follow- 
ing?" 

" No," cried Geraint quickly, leaning eagerly toward the old 
man. " Thy favoring kindness. Earl Yniol ! Let me lay lance 
for thy dear child, thine own fair Enid! Truly I have seen all 
the beauties of our time, but never yet hath mine eyes dwelt on one 
so sweetly fair and pure as she! If she be not unwilling, give her 
to me for my beloved wife, as a reward for overcoming the Sparrow- 
hawk — I care not for the golden bauble — and I swear to you 
to love and reverence her forevermore ! " 

" Ah ! " replied the old man, looking at him with kindly, favor- 
ing eyes, " 'tis an alliance most to be desired, but I know not what 
the maid will say! " (Enid had left the room when first they be- 
gan to discuss the tourney). " I must prove her heart, for never 
would I rise by the sacrifice of my child. Mother," turning to 
the old dame who now came into the room, " this knight, Prince 
Geraint of Devon, wishes to tilt with the Sparrow-hawk and force 
him to give us restitution, desiring the hand of Enid as a reward. 
A maiden is a tender thing, best understood by her who bore her. 
Go thou and inquire of Enid concerning this." 

And so the old dame hurried to Enid's room, where she found 
her half disrobed for the night. Kissing her upon both cheeks, she 
laid her hands upon her fair, shining shoulders and held her away 



82 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

that she might look into her face, while she told her of Prince 
Geraint's desire. Red and white was Enid's fair face, and filled 
with amazement, as she listened to the tidings, so sudden, so un- 
expected that they took her breath away, and she could speak no 
word, nor could she rest that night. In the morning she roused her 
mother and together they went down into the tourney field, where 
they waited for her father and Geraint. And the young knight, 
as he came to her side, felt that beating in his heart, 'neath her 
father's old rusty armor, which proclaimed that, were Enid the 
prize of bodily force, he could win against any odds. 

Soon the knights and the ladies came, and the town and country 
people, and they filled all the space about the lists. Then the 
Sparrow-hawk blew loud upon his trumpet, and bowing low be- 
fore the lady at his side, said gallantly: " Advance, and take the 
golden prize as fairest of the fair; for I these two years past have 
won it for thee, most worthy lady of the prize of beauty." 

" Stay! " called Prince Geraint in a loud voice. " There is one 
more worthy here ! " 

" How now ! " cried the Sparrow-hawk in surprise and wrath, 
and turning beheld the old Earl, his uncle, and his wife and Enid, 
with the handsome, challenging knight beside her. " Do battle 
for it then ! " he stammered, choked with passion at the sight, and 
rushed toward Geraint. 

" The Lord bless thee and keep thee, my knight," murmured 
Enid so kindly and sweetly as Geraint bent over her hand in brief 
farewell, that, unmindful of the vast throng, he stooped and kissed 
her tenderly upon the forehead ere he rushed headlong to meet 
the on-coming Sparrow-hawk. 

Then the strife began, and never was so great a fight seen there- 
abouts before. Thrice they charged, and each time broke their 
lances. Quickly they dismounted and made at one another with 
their swords. So furious were their strokes that at each one the 
bystanders thought to see the battle ended. Twice they rested, 
and then came on again, and many a wound did either give and re- 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 83 

celve, but neither had the mastery, till at last Earl Yniol cried 
lustily: " Remember the great insult done to the Queen." Then 
Geraint gathered all his force into one last blow, and so mighty 
was the stroke that it smote through the helmet and bit the bone 
and felled the Sparrow-hawk to the ground. 

" Tell me thy name! " commanded the Prince sternly, setting his 
foot upon the fallen man's breast. 

" Edyrn, son of Nudd!" moaned the Sparrow-hawk. "Woe 
Is me ! Ashamed am I to tell It to thee. My pride is broken : men 
have seen my fall." 

" Then, Edyrn, son of Nudd," replied Geraint, " these two 
things shalt thou do, or else thou diest : first, with thy lady and thy 
dwarf In company, thou shalt ride to Arthur's court and crave lowly 
pardon of the Queen for the Insult offered In the grove by the 
Severn; next thou shalt restore to the uttermost farthing all that 
thou hast taken of the Earl, thine uncle. These two things shalt 
thou do, or thou shalt die." 

" Stay thy hand. Prince," answered Edyrn sadly. " These things 
will I do willingly. For now that thou hast broken my pride, and 
the fair Enid has seen my fall and rejoices, I repent. It Is meet 
that I do works worthy of repentance." 

The young knight rose humbly and journeyed to Queen 
Guinevere where he begged pardon on his bended knees for his 
traitorous life. So kindly did the beautiful Queen receive him, 
and so earnestly did she beseech him to turn to the right, that he 
swore to fight for the King and the Christ throughout all his life, 
and ever after kept the vow unsullied. 

But Geraint returned with Yniol to the castle, and that night 
pleaded with Enid that she go with him to wed at the Court of 
Arthur on the morrow that being the day he had promised the 
Queen he would return. Enid blushingly consented, though she 
would fain have postponed the date that she might replenish her 
faded wardrobe and so do honor to her lord, yet she dared not 
mention it for fear of grieving him. 



84 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" He seems so bent on going," she mused, as she sought the 
privacy of her chamber, " that it were little grace for me to ask 
a second favor of him, so much are we now beholden! But sweet 
Heaven ! How much I shall discredit him, so noble are his acts 
and so splendid his attire ! Did he but see fit to tarry yet a day 
or two, I would work eye dim and finger lame to prepare fitting 
raiment. O, woe is me! to appear before the great Queen in 
faded apparel, unfit even for a kitchen-maid! " 

And so thinking, the maiden fell longing for a certain beau- 
tiful dress, all branched and flowered with gold, that her mother 
had given her on her birthday eve, the night Sir Edyrn sacked their 
house and scattered all to the four winds. " Oh," she mourned, 
*' did I but know where it had been hid, then I might appear before 
the Queen in fitting raiment ! " 

While she sat fearing more and more the thought of going 
so ill-clad before the Queen and all the splendor of the Court, her 
mother came to her bringing a package which she said had just 
been brought by a villager and contained a sweet surprise. And 
lo! when Enid had unbound it, there rolled out the very gown for 
which she had been wishing. 

" Aye," cried the mother, glad in her daughter's tearful joy, 
*' don it in the morning, child. Now the beautiful Queen can not 
say ' the Prince hath plucked a ragged robin from the hedge ! ' For 
though I heard him call you fairest of the fair, think not, girl, 
that you will not be the fairer to him In new dress than in old." 

But in the morning when Geraint rose early and made himself 
ready for the journey, calling eagerly for his bride-to-be, and Ynlol 
told him she would be down ere long, that her mother was proudly 
decking her in apparel fit even for the Court of Arthur, Geraint 
became perplexed and troubled, and at last begged the Earl eagerly, 
saying: " Sir, entreat her by my love, albeit I give no reason but 
my wish, that she ride with me in her faded silk." 

Imagine the consternation this message created in the chamber 
where the old dame stood admiring her beautiful daughter and 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 85 

likening her unto a fair bride who was created out of flowers ! But 
Enid, all abashed, although she knew not why, tremblingly obeyed 
the request and laid aside the rich robe, not daring to look at her 
silent mother, and so came down in silence in her faded, clinging 
silk. 

And Geraint, when he marked her sweet submission, loved her 
yet th^ more, but, seeing her mother's brow still clouded with dis- 
appointment, made haste to her, saying: " Good mother, take it 
not ill that I have asked this thing. Two reasons there are — 
one, that our Queen Guinevere, when I left three days since, prom- 
ised me that if I would bring my bride to her, whensoever I found 
her, she would clothe her like the sun. And I am minded to ac- 
cept this sweet service, for the two bound together so graciously 
may learn to love each other — and where could Enid find a nobler 
friend? Next, I desired to make proof of her love, for if she could 
at a word from me put aside a thing so dear to all women, then 
might I be sure that her heart was wholly mine. A prophet certain 
of my prophecy, now am I assured that never shadow of distrust 
shall come between us ! Some day will I make amends for my hard 
petition." 

Then the two journeyed away to Caerleon, and from the top- 
most tower, where she sat on the watch, Queen Guinevere saw them 
coming up the vale of Usk and hastened down and out to greet 
them. Right royally did she welcome them and shortly had Enid 
arrayed in magnificent bridal splendor. Then the two were wedded 
by the priestly Dubric, and all that week high festival was held at 
Court. And for many moons Geraint and Enid dwelt at Caerleon- 
on-Usk, and the Queen and Enid became great friends, and Geraint 
rejoiced greatly at their friendship, for it pleased his pride to see 
his wife the favorite of the noblest lady in the land. 

Now Geraint loved his wife better than life itself, and it was 
his pleasure to array her in splendid gowns and dazzling jewels and 
to delight in her exceeding great beauty. And Enid, though not 
caring greatly for such things, was yet glad to make herself pleas- 



86 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

ing In her husband's eyes, for he was all the world to her. Dally 
she appeared before Geraint In some new splendor, and often the 
lUy-whlte hands of Queen Guinevere helped In the adorning, nor 
ever did she give an envious thought to the fact that her favorite 
lady-In-waltlng's beauty might outshine her own. But the Queen 
and Lady Enid could never be rivals, for they were the exact oppo- 
site In their beauty: fair as an Easter lily was Guinevere, and her 
golden hair, woven Into rich, shining colls, made for her a crown 
lovelier than any turned by the hands of man; while Enid's tropical 
beauty glowed like the red, southern rose; and dark as midnight 
were the tresses that framed her brow in wavy tendrils. 

Finally a little cloud arose that threatened for a time to dim 
the brightness of Geraint's new joy. There floated slowly through 
the Court an evil rumor concerning the Queen, saying that the King 
no longer had her heart, and. Indeed, that he had never possessed 
it, but that It was given to Lancelot; and that Lancelot, the King's 
most trusted knight and closest friend, returned her love, and was 
thereby false to the King and to his solemn vows of knighthood. 
Of course Arthur knew nothing of this; neither was any one else 
certain, but there was much talk. And the matter troubled Geraint 
greatly. His dear wife, Enid, was so closely bound to the Queen 
by friendship that he feared she might in some degree be touched 
by the breath of scandal, and the thought was torture to him. At 
last he went to the King and begged permission to withdraw from 
the Court for a time to his own princedom in Devon, saying that 
robbers and marauders were molesting his estate and that his pres- 
ence was needed to quell them. King Arthur, all unsuspicious of the 
true reason, although wondering greatly, consented and Geraint and 
Enid rode away, with fifty knights to accompany them. " And now," 
thought Geraint contentedly, " if ever wife were true to her lord, 
mine shall be to me; for in this quiet home of ours, far away from 
the poisonous influences of the Court, nothing can come between 
us." 

For a time all went well, but Geraint's mind had dwelt so 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 87 

long on his foolish fears that he could not think clearly, and the 
one thought — how to keep his wife's love — ■ dwelt with him to 
the exclusion of all others. He became so absorbed in pleasing her 
that he scarce left her for a moment, and took no heed whatever 
of ruling his province, of hunting or of joining in the tourney, and 
no delight in the society of his peers, thereby bringing shame and 
ridicule upon himself and upon Enid, who was blamed for his care- 
less sloth. And the matter grieved Enid sorely, for her lord's 
name was very dear to her; and she longed to tell him what peo- 
ple were saying, and to ask if it were her fault that he no longer 
cared for knightly deeds, but shame and the fear of grieving him 
tied her tongue. 

Finally, there came a morning when Enid awoke before her hus- 
band, and, leaving her place at his side, drew up a chair and sat 
beside him marveling at his strength and beauty, for his arms and 
chest were bare in the bright warm sunshine which beat in upon 
him. " O noble breast and mighty arms," she murmured, " am I 
the cause that all your glory and your fame is gone, and that men 
reproach you, saying your manliness is no more ? 'Tis true, Geraint, 
I am, because I dare not tell what people say. And yet, rather 
than have things as they are, how gladly would I gird thy harness 
on thee and ride by thy side to battle, and even see thee wounded 
— aye, wounded perhaps to death! Now, here have I the courage 
for this great sacrifice, and yet am not brave enough to speak the 
truth as a true wife should! Ah me! I fear I am no true wife." 

As she spoke, her tears fell fast upon his face and breast, and 
he awoke, hearing by great misfortune only her last words — that 
she feared she was not a true wufe. " Just Heaven! " he thought, 
" in spite of all my care, and for all my pains, she is not faithful 
to me, and I see her weeping for some gay knight in Arthur's 
hall ! " 

The thought goaded him so fiercely that, without a single in- 
quiring word, which might have set all clea-r between them, he 
sprang quickly to the floor and called gruffly to his squire : " Make 



88 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

ready my horse and arms and thy lady's palfrey; I will ride into 
the wilderness." Then, turning to Enid, he said in a voice he never 
had used to her before : " It seems that my spurs are yet to win ! 
I have not fallen so low as some would wish. Do thou put on thy 
worst and meanest dress and ride with me." 

Enid was frightened and amazed, not knowing why he was angry, 
and faltered tearfully. " If I have done wrong, let me at least 
know my fault." 

" Question me not," replied Geraint harshly, " but do my bid- 
ding." 

So Enid turned away sorrowfully, and as she did so she be- 
thought her of the old and faded silk in wlhich Geraint had first 
seen and loved her. Eagerly she brought out the cherished robe 
and donned it hopefully, saying to herself: " Surely when my lord 
sees this dress, his heart will soften, and he will tell me what grieves 
him and take me into his love again." 

But, poor girl, Geraint had no eyes for gowns that morning. 
Perhaps he dared not look at her for fear the tempest in his heart 
would burst in thunder round her head. " Ride thou a good way 
on before," he commanded briefly, with his eyes fixed upon his 
saddle girths. " And I charge thee, on thy duty as a wife, what- 
ever happens, do not speak to me — no, not a word ! " 

And Enid more frightened than before, silently obeyed, but 
scarcely three paces had they passed when Geraint cried out spleen- 
fully. " Effeminate as I am, I will not fight my way with gilded 
arms; all shall be iron," and straightway foolishly threw his heavy 
purse toward his squire. 

So the last view Enid had of her home was the marble threshold 
all shining with gold and scattered coin; and the insulted squire 
chaflfing his shoulder where the purse had struck. 

" To the wilds! " cried Geraint, pointing the way to the marsh 
lands, where bandits and savage beasts were most apt to abound. 
And they fared forth, each busy with his own thoughts, and it was 
hard to say which carried the heavier heart. A stranger meeting 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 89 

them would have said at once, from their pale faces and disturbed 
mien, that each had suffered some exceeding wrong. Ever Enid 
cast about in her heart to divine her fault, and anon murmured 
prayers for the safety of her lord. And Geraint cursed his 
stupidity for wasting so much time In attending his wife, dressing 
her beautifully and striving to keep her true, groaning over the 
thoughts that would arise ! 

Toward noon Enid became aware of three armed knights lying 
in wait for them in the shadow of a rock, and she heard them say, 
" Look ! Here comes a laggard knight who seems no bolder than 
a beaten hound. See how his head hangs down ! Let us set upon 
him and slay him and his horse and armor and damsel shall be 
ours." 

Then Enid pondered In her heart, saying: " I will go back 
and warn my lord of these caitiffs, lest they slay him, for he sees 
them not. If he is angry with me and kills me, far better had I 
die by his dear hand than that he should suffer shame." 

Geraint received her in foolish wrath: " Did I wish your warn- 
ing or your silence? Have you forgotten my command? Well, 
then, look — for whether you wish me victory or defeat; long for 
my life, or hunger for my death — ^you shall see my vigor Is not 
lost." 

Tears filled Enid's eyes, for she was all unused to unkind words; 
and she covered her face despairingly, fearing that her husband 
would be overthrown. But anger made Geraint all-powerful. 
With a savage cry as though glad to have something on which to 
vent his spleen, he rushed upon the bandits, and with one powerful 
stroke drove his spear through the first of them a cubit's length. 
The other two now charged upon him, but their lances splintered 
upon his heavy armor like straws, and In two strokes he slew them 
both. Then he took off their armor and bound It upon their horses, 
and bade Enid drive the animals on before her. She obeyed with- 
out a word, and as Geraint followed her, somewhat nearer than 
before, his heart smote him for his cruelty, and would fain have had 



90 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

him take pity upon her and help her in her hard unlearned task. 
But he stolidly refused and nursed his wrath in silence. 

Scarcely had they gone a mile when Enid became aware of three 
other mounted bandits at the edge of a wood, and one of them 
seemed heavier than Geraint, and filled her heart with fear by his 
boastings: " See, here cometh a prize — three horses armor-laden 
and driven by a single fair damsel. A good knight following? 
Aye, but a cowardly dog, else would he not put so much upon a 
maiden ! Come, let us fall upon him and take his damsel and his 
goods." 

" Alas," murmured Enid to herself, " I must disobey my husband 
again ! He is not on his guard, and full weary with his former 
fight. Yea, though it displeases him, I must speak, for his life is 
dearer to me than my own." 

So she waited for him to come up and faced him timidly, saying: 
*' Have I leave to speak? " Then told him all. 

Geraint listened impatiently as before, then turned upon her 
roughly: " If there were a hundred in the wood, and every man 
were larger limbed than I, and all at once should sally out upon me, 
I swear it would not ruffle me so much as you who do not obey me I 
Stand aside, and if I fall, cleave to the better man." 

And Enid turned away to wait the event, not daring to watch, and 
scarcely feeling within herself strength to breathe in prayer. Then 
he she dreaded most, bore fiercely down upon her lord. But his 
lance missed, and Geraint's own spear drove straight through his 
shield and corselet, and there broke short, felling the huge robber 
from off his horse. His companions came on slowly, their leader's 
death filling all their veins with fear. Geraint, seeing this, bellowed 
forth a fearful battle cry, and the knaves turned and fled. But he 
would not suffer them to escape, and so set upon and slew them. 
Then, binding their armor to the horses, as before, saving the 
lance which pleased him most, he bade Enid to add them to her 
charge. 

Once more the odd procession started, and Geraint followed 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 91 

nearer than before, half-fascinated, despite his anger, by the skill 
with which his wife managed her wayward horses, six of them with 
their jingling arms. Indeed, after a time, he fancied that the 
bandit horses pricked their light ears and strove to do their best 
to help the good friend who directed them with firm voice and kind 
government, and his heart again reproached him. So that when 
they came to the end of the wood and found some mowers at work 
in the field, and a lad bearing victuals to them, he took compassion 
on her paleness, and stopped the boy, saying: " My son, let the 
damsel eat, she is so faint." 

" Yea, willingly," replied the lad, " and do thou, my lord, eat 
also, for though the food is coarse 'twill give thee strength." 

So Geraint and Enid dismounted, sitting down in the fragrant 
hay, while their horses grazed at will near by, and they partook of 
the humble fare, or rather Geraint did, for Enid was too sore at 
heart to eat and she only pretended to do so, fearing to rouse her 
lord's ire by refusal. At last Geraint, reaching into the basket for 
more, found to his dismay that he had eaten all. " Boy," he cried, 
" my appetite hath outrun my manners ! I have emptied the 
basket. But I will reward thee fairly, for never before did food 
taste so good. Choose thou a horse and arms from the captive 
six, and take the best." 

" My lord," exclaimed the boy, reddening with delight, " you 
overpay me fifty-fold! " 

" You will be all the wealthier then," answered Prince Geraint 
merrily. 

" I take It as a free gift, then, not as a reward; for while your 
damsel rests I can easily go to the Court and get more food, and, 
while there, I will tell the Earl about you. He loves to know when 
men of rank are in his territory, and will fetch you to his palace and 
serve you with food more fit than mower's fare." 

" No, indeed," said Geraint quickly. " I ask for no better food 
than that which I have just eaten. And into the Earl's palace I 
will not go ! I know, God knows, too much now of palaces ! Get 



92 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

thee to the Inn and secure us harborage for the night. Then, If 
thy Earl desires to speak with me, let him seek me there." 

So the lad went away happily, leading his chosen horse, with his 
head held high as though he fancied himself a knight, and Geraint 
and Enid stayed In the field; nor spoke to one another, he drowsing 
In the heat and albeit half-musing of his prophecy on their marriage 
morn that naught could ever come between them, and she thinking 
of their strange adventure and longing wistfully for her lord to 
take her into his arms again. 

Finally the messenger returned, and they moved to the house he 
told them of, and remained till evening time, apart by all the 
chamber's width and silent as two moody, drooping mutes. Then 
came a loud discordant voice without, and their door drove suddenly 
backward against the wall and the Earl and a party of rioting 
friends bolted into their presence. Startled and withal ashamed, 
Enid was dismayed to recognize in the wild lord of the place the 
Earl Limours, a former much-scorned suitor, but she gave no sign. 
So Geraint welcomed him cordially, and called for wine and goodly 
cheer to feast the sudden guests. 

When the drinking and feasting was at Its height. Earl Limours, 
made bold by the wine which coursed madly through his veins, 
turned to Geraint and asked permission to cross the room and speak 
with his good damsel, who seemed so pale and lonely. " Aye, take 
my free leave," replied the Prince shortly. " Get her to speak; 
she doth not speak to me." 

And Limours, looking at his feet, arose and crossed to Enid's 
side, where he bowed low and whispered admiringly, " Enid, the 
pilot star of my lone life; Enid, my early and my only love; 
Enid, the loss of whom hath turned me wild — what chance is 
this? How Is It I see you here, and in my power? But stay, girl, 
fear me not; for In my heart, despite my wlldness, is a touch 
of sweet civility. Methought that In the old days you would have 
favored me, but for your father. Was it so? Tell me now; 
make me a little happier. Do you not owe me something for 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 93 

a life half lost? Yea, the whole dear debt of all you arel And, 
Enid, I see with joy that you and he sit apart and do not speak; 
you come with no page or maid to serve you — doth he love you 
as of old? Nay, call It not a lover's quarrel! I know men may 
bicker with things they love, but they do not make them laughable 
In the eyes of all. Your wretched dress is an insult to your per- 
son, and 'tis plain your beauty is no beauty to him now. Think 
not you will win him back. I know men, and a man's love once 
gone never returns. But here Is one who loves you as of old, 
the one true lover whom you ever owned; speak but a word, and 
he shall cross our path no more ! See, he sits surrounded by my 
followers! If I but hold up my finger they will understand. 
Zounds! Enid, do not look so frightened!. I mean not blood;, 
my malice is no deeper than a moat, or stronger than a wall! " 

He paused for very breath, and Enid shrank timidly from the 
Impassioned gaze of his wine-heated eyes. She longed to fly to 
Geraint for shelter, yet dared not In his present mood, and so was 
forced to trust to her woman's wit to protect her. " Earl," she 
murmured softly, " if. Indeed, you love me as in former years, and 
seek not to betray me, come in the morning and snatch him from 
me by violence. Leave me here to-night, I pray thee, for I am 
weary to the death." 

Low bowed the Earl till his brandished plume brushed his in- 
step, then turned swiftly and bade the Prince good night and de- 
parted homeward, bragging to his men that the fair Enid never 
loved man but him, nor cared a broken egg-shell for her lord ! 
And Enid, left alone with Prince Geraint, sat pondering how 
she could best break her lord's command of silence and tell him 
all that troubled her. As she wrestled with her thoughts, the 
calmness of the room bore In upon her, and turning she saw that 
Geraint had fallen back in deep sleep upon the couch where he 
sat. Swiftly she flew to his side, and, settling him in a com- 
fortable position, hung over him in a rush of tenderness, noting 
his firm, deep breathing, and thanking God that he had passed 



94 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

through the day's perils In safety. Finally, overcome with fatigue, 
she leaned against him and slept a troubled sleep till the cock, 
crowing at dawn, awakened her. Rising up, she endeavored to 
collect and arrange her husband's armor, and, while bungling at 
her unusual task, let It fall jangling to the floor. Immediately 
Geraint rose up and stared at her, and Enid broke the silence 
he had commanded and told him all Earl Limours had said, sav- 
ing the passage touching her husband's love, and ended by craving 
his pardon for her own crafty reply. 

Though his mind still dwelt upon her words of the previous 
morning, Geraint could find no fault with her now In word or 
deed, so he bade her order their horses brought. Quickly Enid 
roused the sleeping host, and then, all unasked, aided her lord to 
don his armor. Sallying forth Geraint bade the amazed land- 
lord keep five horses and their armor for his pay, then, as he 
assisted his wife to mount, charged her, saying: "Enid, I es- 
pecially ask to-day that, whatsoever you may hear or see, you 
warn me not. See that you obey." 

" Yea, my lord," answered Enid sadly, " 'tis ever my wish to 
obey you, but your command Is a hard one, when I must ride 
In advance and hear the evil threats, and note the danger which 
you seem not to see." 

" Be not too wise," answered Geraint unkindly, " seeing that 
you are wedded to a man who hath arms to guard his head and 
yours, eyes to find you out however far, and ears to hear you even 
in his dreams." 

Forward toward the waste earldom of Doorm they traveled, and 
Enid's heart trembled within her; for the Earl of Doorm, whom 
his trembling vassals called " the bull," was known far and wide 
for his strength and fierceness. In a short time her straining ears 
heard the tramp of horses' hoofs away in their rear, and, turn- 
ing, she beheld a cloud of dust. Now Geraint rode in sullen 
silence as though he heard them not, so she rode toward him and, 
lifting her hand, pointed to the oncoming cloud. Pleased with 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 95 

what he termed her obedience to his command, Geraint turned 
and waited the onslaught. 

In a moment, Limours, borne on a black horse, " like a thunder- 
cloud whose skirts are loosened by the breaking storm," dashed 
up and closed with him. But Geraint smote him heavily to the 
earth, and overthrew the next who followed, and charged single- 
handed the small brigade of knights behind. At his first cry 
of battle the rogues fled panic-stricken, this way and that, like a 
shoal of darting fish that scatters in a moment at the warning 
shadow of a man's hand on the stream. 

"What think you of your lover now?" cried the Prince, with 
ill-advised humor. " Has your palfrey heart enough to bear his 
armor? Shall we strip him of it, and buy therewith a dinner for 
ourselves? Say, which shall it be, fast or dine?" 

But Enid, half-angered by his coarseness, spoke never a word 
in reply, and led the way onward, her tear-blind eyes fixed steadily 
upon her bridle-reins. And so they journeyed, Geraint suffering 
in silence from a wound received in his late combat, and grimly 
determined to speak not a word of It to his wife, till his eye dark- 
ened and his helmet trembled, and, at a sudden turn in the road, 
he went down In a heap upon a bank of grass. In a moment, 
however, his wronged wife was beside him, and had swiftly un- 
fastened his armor till she found the wound and bound It up In 
her faded veil. Then, fearing that perhaps he was hurt to the 
death, the horror of It all charged her overwrought nerves, and 
she sank down beside the way weeping heart-brokenly. 

Many passed but none heeded them; for it was no uncommon 
sight In those days to see a woman weeping by the side of her fallen 
knight. A fugitive fleeing from the wrath of Doorm tore past, 
and frightened her palfrey so that he ran away into the bushes and 
was lost, but the noble war-horse stood by like a staunch friend, 
and tried to stay her grief by rubbing a sympathizing nose against 
her shoulder and face. At last, when her grief had worn itself 
low from very violence, she became aware of a body of knights 



96 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

approaching. At their head rode one whom she readily divined 
as the great Earl Doorm himself. 

Stirred by the beautiful, sorrowing face, he paused. "What! 
is he dead?" he called. 

"No, no, not dead!" she answered, in all haste. "Would 
some of your kind people take him up and bear him away out of 
this scorching sun? Most sure am I that he is not dead." 

" Well, dead or not," said the Earl heartlessly, " you mar a 
comely face with idiotic tears! They can avail him nothing! 
But, since the damsel's face is beautiful, boys, we will grant the 
favor. Take him up you, Jeems and Gurth, and bear him to 
the hall. If he lives, we will have him in our band; if he dies, 
we have got earth enough to cover him. And don't forget the 
charger, men, he is a noble one." 

The great Earl passed on, and two brawny spearmen advanced 
to do his bidding, growling like dogs because they were thus forced 
to lose the bones that might by chance fall to them in the day's 
hunt. Roughly they tossed Geraint upon a rude litter-bier, all in 
the hollow of his shield, and bore him to the dark, silent hall of 
Doorm, where they cast him hastily down upon an oaken settle, 
and rushed away to join their mates in the chase. There through 
the long hours of the afternoon Enid sat by her husband, chafing 
his hands, bathing his brow, and calling upon him in endearing 
terms to awaken and speak to her. 

At last her voice pierced through the lethargy which bound 
him, and he became aware of the warm tears falling on his face. 
" Ah, ha," thought he delightedly, " she weeps for me." And he 
resolved to lie still and test her to the uttermost, so he gave no 
sign. 

As the night shades were falling, the Earl of Doorm and his 
spearmen came back with their plunder. Soon the great hall rang 
with life and light and the tumult of many voices. A score or 
more of handsome, well-dressed women, joined the knights, and, 
following them, came servants bearing food and wine. Whole 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 97 

hogs and quarter beeves, large flagons of rich wines, and all manner 
of choice eatables made the table groan, and the bandits fell to 
with an eagerness not unlike that of swine. Their greediness made 
Enid faint and sick, and she crouched farther back into her dark 
corner, trembling with fear and horror. 

At last the Earl of Doorm could eat no more, and, raising his 
eyes from his plate, he gazed Indolently about the hall until his 
sharp eyes fell on the shrinking form of Enid. In a moment he 
remembered the scene of the afternoon and strode toward her. 
"Eat!" he commanded. "I never yet beheld a thing so pale. 
God's curse. It makes me mad to see you weep ! Good luck had 
your good man, for were I dead, who in all the world would weep 
for me? Sweet lady, never since I first drew breath have I be- 
held a lady like yourself. If you had some color in your cheeks, 
there Is not one among my gentlewomen fit to wear your slipper 
for a glove. Listen to me, girl, you shall share my earldom with 
me, and we will live like two birds in one nest. I will fetch you 
wonderful forage from the fields; for I compel all creatures to my 
will." 

Great consternation followed the Earl's words. His knights 
stared at him with bulging cheeks, forgetting In their amazement 
to swallow their food. The women made grimaces at each other, 
and one and all hated the fair stranger who stood in their midst 
with sorrowing down-bent head. 

" I pray you, sir," answered Enid, speaking so low and with 
such difficulty that the Earl heard not what she said, " my lord 
being as he is, kindly let me be." 

" Aye," replied the Earl, In gracious, self-satisfied vanity, well- 
pleased at himself for having made the offer, and never thinking 
any woman would reject It, " eat and be glad, for you are mine." 

" How can I be glad," queried Enid sadly, taking no notice 
of the last part of his speech, " unless my lord arise and speak to 
me?" 

Vexed at what he termed her foolishness, the Earl caught her 



98 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

by the arm and drew her by main force to the table, where he 
placed food before her and sternly commanded her to eat, 

" No, no," cried Enid pleadingly, " I will not eat till yonder 
man upon the bier arises and eats with me ! " 

" Drink, then," answered the Earl shortly. " Here," pouring 
her a glass of wine, " drink this, and the wine will change your 
will." 

" No, indeed," sobbed Enid, " I will not drink unless my dear 
lord bids me do it. If he rises no more, then shall I drink no 
wine while I live." 

For a moment the Earl paced the floor angrily, gnawing his 
lips in perplexity, then paused before Enid. " Girl," he said warn- 
ingly, " yonder man is dead. Be careful how you scorn my 
courtesies ! A fool you are to weep for one who dressed you in 
rags ! Doff your ragged, faded dress, and let my gentlewomen 
clothe you in a robe befitting your beauty." 

" No," persisted Enid, " I pray you let me be. In this poor 
gown my dear lord first found and loved me; in this poor gown 
I first rode with him to Court where the beautiful Queen arrayed 
me for my bridal like the sun; in this poor gown he bade me clothe 
myself yesterday when we fared forth in search of adventure, and 
I will not cast it away unless he himself arises and bids me do it. 
I can never love any one but him ; I pray you be gentle and let 
me be," 

" Truly," cried the Earl, beside himself with rage, and seeing 
how his women smiled behind their hands, " it is of no use to be 
gentle, with you ! Take that for my salute ! " giving her a sting- 
ing slap on the cheek with his palm. 

And Enid, in her utter fear and helplessness, thinking he would 
not have dared do such a thing had he not felt certain Geraint 
was dead, gave forth a sudden sharp, bitter cry, like a wild thing 
in a trap. 

Then a strange, terrifying thing happened. With a sudden 
bound the apparently lifeless knight dashed into the center of the 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID 99 

room, sword In hand, and with one mighty sweep severed the head 
from the great Earl's body, and let It roll like a russet-bearded 
ball upon the floor. All the knights and women ran shrieking from 
the room, thinking a specter had arisen In their midst, and Geraint 
and Enid were left alone. 

" Oh, Enid, my wife," cried Geraint, catching his wife's hands 
in a close, warm clasp, " forgive me ! I have done you more wrong 
than yonder villain ! Forgive me, I pray you, for though my own 
ears heard you say yesterday morning, when you thought me sleep- 
ing, that you feared you were no true wife, I needs must believe 
you against yourself. I know not what you meant, neither shall 
I ask; but of this I am certain no man ever yet had a truer or love- 
lier wife! Henceforward I will die rather than doubt." 

And Enid was silent for very happiness, but her starry eyes 
flashed back a world of answering love and she yielded herself to 
his embrace. Presently a sudden terror shot through her heart. 
" O Geraint, fly! Fly before It Is too late! They will pluck up 
courage soon to return, and then they will surely slay you. Fly, 
my husband, our charger Is just without the door, forgotten In the 
edge of the laurels; I saw him but a moment since — my palfrey 
Is lost." 

" Then shall you ride with me, dear Enid. Come! " answered 
Geraint, leading her forth. 

Scarcely had they reached the open hall door when the noble 
war-horse came toward them with a low whinny. Enid threw 
her arms about his neck and kissed his white-starred forehead 
In glad welcome. Then Geraint quickly mounted and held out 
his hand to his wife; grasping it, she set her foot upon his and 
so climbed up, and Geraint leaned over and warmly kissed her. 
So they rode swiftly away, and the heart of Enid rejoiced. 

Just without the gateway of the castle, a full-armed knight 
rode toward them with all speed and made as though to set upon 
Geraint. And Enid, fearing for her lord's hurt and loss of blood, 
cried loudly: " I pray thee, knight, slay not a dead man! " 



loo THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

"The voice of Enid!" joyfully exclaimed the strange knight. 
And lo ! it was Edyrn, the son of Nudd, Enid's cousin whom 
Geraint had overthrown at the joust of the Sparrow-hawk. But 
Enid perceived not his gladness, and was more fearful than be- 
fore, for she knew not what his spirit might be toward them. 

" O cousin," she cried pleadingly, " slay him not who gave thee 
life!" 

" My lord Geraint," said Edyrn, holding out a welcoming hand, 
" I greet you with all love. I took you for a bandit knight of 
Doorm. Fear not, Enid, that I should fall upon him who has done 
so much for me; for once when I was up so high in pride that I 
was halfway down the slope to Hell, by overthrowing me he threw 
me higher. Now, by his grace, I am a knight of Arthur's Round 
Table, and I am come, a mouth-piece of our good King, to bid the 
Earl of Doorm disband himself, and scatter all his powers, and 
come to the judgment of the King." 

" Alas, thou art too late! " exclaimed Geraint. " He now hears 
the judgment of the great King of kings, and his powers are 
scattered. See ! and he pointed to the frightened men and women 
staring from knolls here and there, and to others still fleeing in 
the distance. Then he told what had befallen, and how the Earl 
lay dead in his silent hall. 

But when Edyrn prayed him to come to the camp hard by and 
acquaint the King of the matter, he was unwilling and ashamed, 
knowing all his own folly. 

" Well," said Edyrn, at last, when he found no argument would 
move him, " if you will not come to Arthur, he will come to you." 

" Enough ! " cried Geraint resignedly. " Lead on, I follow." 

And Enid, as they journeyed, was consumed by two fears: one 
from the bandits scattered along the way, and the other from 
Edyrn, from whom she shrank with nervous timidity each time 
he drew near. At last, perceiving this, he said reassuringly: 
*' Fair and dear cousin, you no longer have need to fear me: I 
am changed. Since my overthrow at my last foolish Sparrow- 



THE STORY OF GERAINT AND ENID loi 

hawk joust, when your good husband taught me a much-needed 
lesson, I have sought to do better. Of course, It did not all come 
at once; but when I went up to the Court of Arthur, all ashamed 
and expecting to be treated like a wolf, I met with such courtesy, 
such fine reserve, and noble reticence, that I longed to be like those 
about me. My past life looked black indeed, and I sought the 
wise counsel of the holy Dubric. Often I saw you, Enid, with our 
beautiful Queen, but I kept myself aloof lest my presence should 
vex you." 

His words made Enid's heart glad indeed, and, while she mur- 
mured her pleasure, they came to King Arthur's camp and the 
King himself advanced to greet them. For a moment he spoke 
apart with Edyrn, then gravely smiling, advanced and, lifting Enid 
from behind Geraint, set her upon her feet and kissed her brother- 
like, then pointed out a tent where she might rest, and watching 
until she entered therein, turned eagerly to Geraint: 

" Ah, Prince, I welcome you back heartily. When first you 
prayed leave to go to your own land and defend your marshes, 
I was pricked with some reproof; for I felt that I had let foul 
wrong stagnate and delegated too much to other eyes and hands. 
Therefore, I am now come here with Edyrn and others to cleanse 
this common sewer of my realm. I thank you for the justice meted 
out to the wicked Earl; Edyrn has briefly told me all. And have 
you looked at Edyrn, and marked how nobly he is changed? Great 
is the thing which he hath done; for he hath changed his old life 
of violence to one of sanest, noblest, most valorous obedience. 
Verily, he that conquereth his own spirit is better than he that 
taketh a city. To my mind the thing which he hath done is greater 
and more wonderful than if he had gone out single-handed and 
overcome a band of powerful robbers. But come, Prince, you 
are wounded. Get you to shelter, and I will summon mine own 
physician to wait upon you." 

Meekly Geraint bowed low and departed, his heart filled with 
remorse over his own late shortcomings. And for many days he 



I02 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

lay weakly upon his low cot, while his wound slowly healed. Enid 
lingered ever beside him, nursing and ministering unto all his wants 
with tender cheerfulness; and each day their love for each other 
grew deeper. 

Now, while Geraint lay in enforced idleness, the King and 
his knights went up and down throughout the Doorm realm and set 
all in order. The slothful officers and the guilty ones, who for 
bribe winked at wrong, were ousted out of office, and strong, wise 
men set therein. For many days a thousand men moved here 
and there in all the waste lands, clearing out the dark places, and 
letting in the light and the law. Then, when Geraint was whole 
again, they moved slowly back to Caerleon-on-Usk. 

Most joyfully did Queen Guinevere welcome her friend Enid, 
and clothed her once more in beautiful apparel. And Geraint, 
though not as proud of the friendship as he once had been, rested 
well content, knowing that he held all of his beautiful wife's love, 
nor feared he the influence of another. And so for a time they 
abode in the Court of Arthur; then traveled away to their home on 
the Severn in Devon. Here Geraint administered the King's 
justice so wisely and well, that all men loved him and rejoiced in 
his good government and his might in tournament and battle. 
Everywhere he was spoken of as the " Great Prince " and " Man 
of Men," and his wife Enid w^as loved and revered no less than 
himself, and people called her " Enid the Good." Noble children 
came to bless their home, and nevermore did trouble darken their 
doors, until Geraint's honorable life was ended in the great battle 
for the King against the heathen of the North Sea. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 

ONCE, when Arthur was but a boy, he roamed one day 
through the trackless realms of Lyonesse, and stumbled 
all unawares upon a valley which the people all about 
shunned. This vale was haunted by two brothers, one a king, who 
had fought and killed each other there, and their bones lay bleach- 
ing in the sun. And Arthur, laboring up the pass in the misty 
moonshine, stepped suddenly upon the skeleton that wore the 
crown, and the skull broke from the neck, and the crown, 
thus set in motion, turned on its rims and rolled down 
the crags like a glittering rivulet. Arthur scrambled after, and 
secured it at the risk of his life. Beautiful, indeed, was the prize, 
of richly wrought gold, all engraved in fanciful design, and 
decorated with nine diamonds, one in front and four on each side. 
" Ah ! " cried Arthur, in boyish admiration and elation, setting 
the crown on his head, " would that I were a king ! " 

Years passed on and Arthur's wish came true; then he brought 
forth the crown and, plucking out the jewels, showed them to 
his knights, saying: " These jewels which I chanced upon divinely 
are not mine. They belong to the kingdom, and I shall devote 
them to public use. Henceforward let there be, once every year, 
a joust for one of these: for so by nine years' proof we needs 
must learn which is our mightiest, and ourselves shall grow in use 
of arms and manhood, till we drive the heathen from out all our 
land." 

And it came to pass as the King desired. Eight years rolled 
away, and eight jousts had been, and each time Lancelot had easily 
won the diamond, intending when he had secured all to give them 
to the Queen in token of his love and loyalty. The time for the 

103 



104 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

ninth and last tournament was at hand, and the prize was to be the 
central diamond, the largest and most beautiful of them all. But 
It so chanced that Queen Guinevere was just recovering from an 
Illness, and could not be present. 

" Alas," mourned the King regretfully, " I wish the time were 
not now; for you will miss the great deeds of Lancelot and his 
powers In the lists, — a sight you love to look on." 

The Queen answered never a word, but lifted her eyes 
languidly to Lancelot, where he stood beside the King, and Lance- 
lot, whose love for her was ever in conflict with his loyalty and 
love for the King, thought within himself: "Alas, she needs 
me here. Is not my love greater than jewels?" So, though it 
grieved him sorely to give up hope of winning the last diamond, 
he turned to the King and observed sadly: ** Ah, King, I am 
afraid the jewel is lost to me; for my old wound that Sir Mador 
gave me troubles me of late, and I am scarce fit for the saddle." 

For a moment a troubled doubt crossed the good King's heart, 
and he glanced sharply first at his wife, then at his trusted knight, 
Lancelot, but he turned away without a word. Scarcely had he 
closed the door, when the Queen burst out peevishly: *' To blame, 
my lord Lancelot, much to blame ! Why do you not go to the 
jousts? Half of the knights now are our enemies, and they will 
accuse us of shamefully staying at home and betraying the good 
King's trust." 

And Lancelot, vexed that he had lied to the King all to no 
purpose, replied hastily: "My Queen, you are overlate In your 
wisdom; you were not so wise when first you loved me. As for 
the gossips, let them say what they will; but, indeed, my loyal wor- 
ship Is allowed by all, and no offense Is thought. But Is there 
more? Hath the King spoken, or does my loving service weary 
you?" 

" The faultless King, my lord Arthur ! " laughed Guinevere 
scornfully, " he cares not for me. He Is so wrapped up in his 
foolish fancy of the Round Table, and swearing men to Impos- 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 105 

sible vows, that he never thinks of me. Reproached me? In- 
deed, no. He has never had a glimpse of mine untruth; but to- 
day I thought there gleamed a vague suspicion in his eyes. The 
pink of perfection is he, — but who can gaze on the sun in heaven? 
My friend, to me he is all fault who hath no fault at all! I am 
yours, not Arthur's, as you know, save by the bond, and therefore 
must you hear my words: go you to the jousts." 

" But," queried Lancelot, " how can I show myself at the tour- 
nament after my lying pretext of a wound? The King himself 
is utter truth, and honors his own word as if it were his God's." 

" Yea," sneered the Queen, " a moral child without the craft 
to rule, else had he not lost me. But listen, if I must find you wit: 
disguise yourself and go unknown pretending that, as men have 
said knights fall before the glamor of your name rather than 
the prowess of your sword, you sought in this way to test your 
might. This will please the King, for no keener hunter after 
glory lives than himself. Go, and win ! " 

So Lancelot perforce yielded to the Queen's wishes, and in a 
sorry temper got himself to horse, and set out by unfrequented 
ways for the tourney field. As he journeyed among the solitary 
downs, full often lost in fancy, it chanced that he missed his way, 
and towards evening drew near to the castle of Astolat, which 
shown from afar in the western sun. Riding up to the marble 
gateway, he blew a shrill blast upon the horn which hung with- 
out, and immediately an old gray-headed man, dumb as an oyster, 
appeared and motioned him to enter. Right willingly Lancelot 
obeyed, marveling much at the speechless man, who showed him 
to a little chamber in the turret and helped him to disarm. And 
straightway Lancelot came forth, and met the lord of the castle 
and his two stalwart sons, Sir Torre and Sir Lavaine, while close 
behind came Elaine, the daughter, who for her fairness was called 
by the people " The Lily Maid of Astojat." There was no mother 
of the house to greet him, for God had called her. 

" Whence comest thou, my guest?" cried the Lord of Astolat, 



io6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

extending his hand in hearty greeting. " And what may be thy 
name? I guess from thy stately presence that thou belongest to 
the great Court of Arthur and the knights of the Round Table." 

" Aye," answered Lancelot, " thou hast guessed truly. But ask 
not my name now, for I desire to ride unknown to the jousts, and 
may not give my reasons. Also I would ask another favor of 
thee : unwittingly I brought my shield with me, and I dare not 
carry it to the tourney, for it is widely known; I pray thee, then, 
lend me another shield, that my disguise may be complete, and 
keep this one till I come again." 

" Gladly will I do so," answered the host. " You can have my 
son Torre's. He was lately wounded and can not ride to the 
tilt." 

" Yea," said Sir Torre bluntly, " since I cannot use it, you may 
have it." 

" Fie, Sir Churl," laughed the father, " is that an answer for 
a noble knight? Forgive him, my guest. But here is Lavalne," 
turning playfully to his younger son, " he is going to the Diamond 
Jousts, and forsooth he is so strong and brave that he will certainly 
do nothing less than win, in an hour's time, and has promised to 
bring back the diamond and set it in his sister's golden hair." 

" Nay, good father," cried Lavaine, crimsoning with embar- 
rassment, " shame me not before this knight. Thou knowest it 
was all a jest! Torre was vexed because he could not go, and 
my sister here told us how she dreamed that some one brought her 
the diamond, but that she let it slip through her hand and lost it 
in the stream. And so. Sir Knight, I said /"/ I won the prize, then 
she must keep it better. So you see it was nothing but a joke! 
But, dear father, if he will have my company, I should like very 
much to ride to the jousts with this good knight. Win, of course, 
I shall not, but yet I will do my best." 

" Indeed," said Lancelot heartily, " I should be glad to have 
your company and guidance over these moors whereon I all but 
lost myself. Also should I like to see you win the diamond and 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 107 

bring it home to your fair sister. It is a wondrous jewel I hear." 

" Aye," muttered Sir Torre bitterly, " a fair, large diamond, 
more fit for queen than for lily-maid." 

" Nay, not so," answered Lancelot gallantly. " If the proverb, 
' what is fair be but for the fair,' is true, as I thinlc it is, then 
this fair maiden might wear as fair a jewel as there is on earth." 

And Elaine, won by his mellow voice, thought to herself, 
" Surely this is the most noble knight in Arthur's Hall," and there 
stole into her heart a love for him which later worked her doom. 
Yet there was little about this knightly courtier to win a maiden's 
fancy, saving his kingly bearing, gracious courtesy, and pleasing 
converse. Twice her age was he, and his noble face was bronzed 
and worn with care, and scarred with the conflict between his love 
for Guinevere and his loyalty to Arthur, his friend and King. But 
still he was good to look upon, the darling of the Court, and past- 
master of the art of conversation, and he charmed them all, as 
they sat about the dinner board that evening, with his talk of Court 
and camp and adventures here and there. However, when Guin- 
evere's name was mentioned, he deftly switched the tide of talk, 
and inquired concerning the dumb man who had admitted him. 

" The heathen reft him of his tongue ten years ago," answered 
the host, " when he learned of their fierce design against my house, 
and warned me of it. With my sons and little daughter I fled 
to the woods and had refuge in a boatman's hut by the river for 
many days, till our good King drove the pagan out from Badon 
hill." 

" O, Sir Knight," cried Lavalne eagerly, interrupting his father's 
tale of woe, " tell us of Arthur's famous wars, for we live apart 
and know so little." 

Willingly Sir Lancelot complied, for he loved to tell of Arthur's 
prowess in battle, and his hearers sat spell-bound before his tales 
of knightly daring. In glowing words he told of the four loud 
battles by the shore of Duglas; of the terrible war that thundered 
in and out of the gloomy skirts of the Celidon forest; of the 



io8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

struggle by Castle Gurnion, where the glorious King wore on his 
cuirass the famous Russian Emerald (first given by Pilate to 
Tiberius Caesar), having the head of Christ engraved upon it^ 
and how the sun splintered in silver rays, lightening as he breathed, 
until the Saxons were sore afraid; of the conquest at Caerleon, 
where the strong neighings of the wild, white horse set every gilded 
parapet shuddering; and of the last great battle on the mount of 
Badon where the King charged at the head of his Round Table 
and broke the heathen. " Oh," he cried in conclusion, " the King 
is mighty on the battle-field! There lives no greater leader! At 
home he seemeth mild and careth not at all for our jousts, laugh- 
ing when one of his knights overthrows him easily according him 
the better man, but, when he faces the heathen in battle array, 
the fire of God descends upon him. He is transfigured and his 
face is wonderful to behold. There is no man like our glorious 
King!" 

"Saving your own great self!" thought Elaine worshipfully, 
following the light and shade of his talk with ever deepening in- 
terest and noting the play of expression on his speaking counte- 
nance. And, perceiving an under current of sadness through all, 
she tried by various little attentions to bring him cheer, and suc- 
ceeded each time in calling up such a " sudden-beaming tenderness 
of manners and nature " that, all unused to men and courtier ways, 
she thought the brightness beamed for her alone. All night long 
the dark, splendid face lived before her, speaking in silence of 
noble things, and it held her from sleep. At dawn she arose and 
went down into the courtyard, cheating herself with the belief 
that she went but to bid Godspeed to her young brother, 
Lavaine. 

Now it so chanced that as she stole down the long tower stairs, 
Lavaine passed within to get Torre's shield for Lancelot, and so 
the lily-maid found the knight standing alone by his proud horse, 
smoothing its glossy shoulder, and humming to himself. Half- 
envious of the noble horse, Elaine drew nearer and stood gazing 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 109 

with all her soul. And Lancelot, turning around, stood more 
amazed than if seven men had suddenly set upon him, for in the 
dewy light the maiden seemed more beautiful than the angels; 
yet a sort of fear stirred him as he saw that she gazed upon his 
face as though it were a god's. He greeted her silently, and 
suddenly there flashed over her a wild desire that he should wear 
her favor at the tilt. For It was the custom In those days for 
knights to wear in their helms at tournaments some glove or scarf 
of the lady whom they favored most. Timidly, and with madly 
beating heart, she made the request. 

And Lancelot scarce knew how to answer her. Before his guilty 
soul floated the vision of Queen Guinevere's matchless beauty, and 
the thing Elaine asked seemed impossible. " Nay, fair lady," he 
said slowly, turning away to avoid her disappointment. " It has 
never been my custom to wear a lady's favor at the lists, therefore 
I cannot do It now." 

" But," answered Elaine eagerly, seeking an excuse for him with 
ready woman's tact, " if you now wear my favor it will then aid 
the more In keeping your disguise." 

" True, my child," agreed Lancelot, seeing much wisdom In her 
counsel. " Well, I will wear it. Fetch it out to me." 

Delighted to obey, Elaine skipped happily to her boudoir, re- 
turning straightway with a red velvet sleeve, beautifully em- 
broidered with shining pearls, and bound it upon his helmet. And 
Lancelot submitted smilingly, saying: " Never yet have I done 
so much for any maiden living." 

The words filled Elaine's heart with delight and dyed her beau- 
tiful face a rich carmine, but the color fled quickly, leaving her 
paler than before, as Lavaine appeared with his brother's shield, 
and made ready to depart. 

" Do me the grace, my child, to keep my shield till I return," 
said Lancelot, handing to Elaine his famous shield, whereon 
gleamed the azure lions in shining, jeweled splendor, and sub- 
stituting Torre's plain, and as yet unblazoned one. 



no THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" The grace is mine, Sir Knight," replied Elaine, accepting the 
charge gladly. 

Then Lavaine kissed the roses back Into his sister's cheeks, " lest 
people think her really a lily-maid." The King's knight kissed 
his hand to her in true courtier fashion, and the two rode away, 
Elaine watching them from the castle gateway as far as she might 
see. 

And so It came to pass that — 

Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, 
Elaine the lily-maid of Astolat, 
High in her chamber up a tower to the east, 
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot. 

Elaine passed her days in sweet dreaming and vain imaginings. 
She placed the shield where the sun's first rays might strike the 
jeweled lions, and awaken her with their gleams from her dreams 
of their great owner. Then, as the days passed, she began to fear 
the shield might rust, and she furnished for it a beautiful case, 
all embroidered with silk after the fashion of the shield itself, and 
added from her needle-woman's skill a border of branch and 
flower, and a yellow-throated nestling in a nest. And, as she 
worked, she mused over each cut and dint in the scarred shield 
and fancied what had taken place in field and tournament. 

Meantime the two knights fared forward toward the lists, and, 
as they neared their destination, the elder said to the younger: 
*' Would you know my name? Hear it then, but tell it not. 'Tis 
Lancelot of the Lake." 

"Is it, truly?" gasped the lad, filled with hero-worshiping 
reverence. " The great Lancelot ! At last, I have my wish ! 
Our country's greatest knight! Now, if I might see the great 
Arthur Pendragon, Britain's King of kings, then might I die 
happy! " 

They were already nearing the meadow where the jousts were 
to be held, so Lancelot made no reply further than to wave his 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT iii 

hand toward the lists, and watch the joy and admiration dawn on 
the young knight's face. It was indeed a gorgeous sight. The 
great half-round gallery of seats, filled with richly dressed spec- 
tators, " lay like a rainbow fallen upon the grass." And the lists 
were rapidly filling with knights, magnificent in their battle array. 
Lavaine's eyes wandered eagerly over the throng, until they rested 
upon the high throne, where the great King sat, robed in red 
samite. All about the royal seat shone and writhed carved, golden 
dragons, the royal crest of the great house of Pendragon. A 
golden dragon clung to the King's crown and writhed down his 
long, rich robe. Two others formed the arms of the chair of 
state. And just above the King's head, in the ornaments of the 
canopy, was a golden flower, in the center of which shone the 
great diamond prize of the day. 

Lancelot, observing how the lad's eyes were riveted on the 
King, spoke solemnly, " Just now you called me great, perhaps be- 
cause I have some skill in war and tourney, but, no doubt, many 
a youth now in the ascendant will attain to all I have and sur- 
pass me. Greatness is not in me, unless it be in the knowledge that 
I have It not. Yonder is the great man — our peerless, white 
King!" 

Lavaine stared at him in wonder, not half-comprehending what 
was meant, but just then the bugles blew and both sides began to 
make ready for the jousts. The Knights of the Round Table 
formed the challenging party, and those who came to tilt against 
them were kings, princes, barons, and knights from far and near.. 
And Lavaine was for taking sides at once and preparing for the 
fray, but Lancelot signaled to him and drew away out of the line 
of combat, and the boy followed his leader, for to his hero-wor- 
shiping heart Lancelot's slightest will was law. 

The knights quickly formed into two long lines at opposite ends 
of the field. " With helmets crested with their ladies' favors or 
with nodding plumes, and long lances bedecked with pennons that 
danced to the lilt of the breeze, the great company of knights 



112 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

awaited the signal for the onset. And no less impatient than their 
riders, the splendid war-horses quivered for the fray. Then 
suddenly the heralds blew a mighty blast on their trumpets; the 
knights struck spur; and riders and steeds, alike wild with the joy 
of the conflict, were hurled together in the center of the lists. The 
hard earth trembled with the shock, and the clear air of morning 
reverberated with the thunder of arms." 

Lancelot withheld his hand for a time, until he could see which 
was the weaker side, then he hurled himself into the midst of the 
press against the stronger, which was his own order of the Round 
Table. In a moment it became evident that the knight with the 
red sleeve favor was a great acquisition to the losing side. 
Spurred on by cheers and shouts, he was soon at the head of the 
line — duke, earl, baron, and knight gave way before him, and it 
began to look as though the Knights of the Round Table would 
be overcome. Great excitement prevailed on every hand; the 
spectators rose in their seats in astonished admiration; the knights 
in the lists marveled much and questioned one another: "Who 
is this strange knight of the red sleeve that tilts with a daring al- 
most equal to that of the great Lancelot himself? " And even 
King Arthur was fired at last by the wonderful deeds of the stranger, 
and cheered him lustily. 

Presently there arose in the hearts of the Round Table knights 
a strong feeling of jealousy that there should live a knight who 
could outdo the chivalrous deeds of their own beloved chief. And 
the cousins of Lancelot — strong, mighty men of great prowess in 
battle — counseled together, and finally bore down upon the 
stranger in a body, determined to overthrow him, and thus keep 
their kinsman peerless still. Like a great wave of the North Sea 
they came on, seeking by weight of men and horses to overwhelm 
Lancelot and the brave knight fighting valiantly at his right hand, 
who was none other than the youth, Lavaine. One, with lance 
aimed low, lamed Lancelot's noble horse; and another struck 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 113 

sharply with his spear and pierced through shield and mail, leav- 
ing the lance head buried in Sir Lancelot's side. 

Then Lavaine, seeing the great danger of his beloved hero, 
did a most noble deed. With a well-aimed blow he overthrew a 
mighty warrior, took his horse, and brought it to where Sir Lance- 
lot lay. And Lancelot, sweating with agony from the great wound 
in his side, got to the horse with Lavaine's aid, minded to endure 
as long as he might. With a great shout the knights of his party 
rallied round him; and stirred to fresh zeal by his courage, they 
smote with might and main. Ever Lancelot led them on until 
he had driven his kinsmen and all the knights of the Round Table 
back to the very extremity of the lists. Then came a wild blast 
of the trumpets, and the Heralds proclaimed that the victory be- 
longed to the knight of the red sleeve, and bade him advance and 
get the diamond. 

But Lancelot sat as if suddenly bereft of motion, and his party, 
seeing this, set up a deafening cheer and cried with one voice: 
'* Advance, man, and get the prize ! 'TIs well won." 

" The prize ! " gasped Lancelot, suddenly swaying In the saddle. 
"No diamond prize for me! My prize is death! For God's 
love give me air! " 

Struck dumb with consternation were all the knights about him, 
and Lancelot took swift advantage of their plight and stole away 
from the field. And no one marked where he went, save the faith- 
ful Lavaine, who spurred his horse forward and kept him silent 
company till they came to a hermit's cave in a poplar grove some 
miles away. Then Lancelot could keep his saddle no longer, and 
slid to the earth, crying to Lavaine, " Draw out the lance head! " 

Lavaine obeyed, though with sore misgiving, fearing that his 
lord might die in the drawing of it; and Lancelot gave a great 
shriek and a ghastly groan and fainted dead away. The hermit 
heard the cry of suffering and came hurrying forth, and it chanced 
that he was once a knight and knew Lancelot well; so he caught 



114 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

him up and bore him in, and tended him with great skill. But 
for many weary weeks Lancelot lay hidden from the world by the 
tall poplars and the ever-tremulous aspen trees, and Lavaine and 
the good hermit waited upon him faithfully, being in daily doubt 
as to whether he would live or die. 

Now on that day when Lancelot and his young friend led the 
lists, there was great wonder and pity among the people assembled. 
And the knights whom he had led so victoriously went to the great 
King, saying: *' Sire, our knight, through whom we won the day, 
hath gone away sorely wounded, and hath left his prize untaken, 
crying that his prize is death." 

" Heaven hinder that so great a knight as we have seen to-day 
should pass uncared for," said the King. " He is a mighty war- 
rior. Indeed, he seemed to me another Lancelot! Yea, twenty 
times I thought he was Lancelot, and I am yet in doubt." 

And the King pondered for a moment, becoming more and more 
convinced that the disguised knight was Lancelot, in spite of every 
proof to the contrary. So he called Gawain, his nephew, son of 
Lot and Bellicent and brother to Gareth, and bade him take the 
diamond and ride forth at once, day and night, until he found the 
knight who had so dearly won it, and give it to him, charging 
Gawain also to return speedily to the Court bringing news as to 
the stranger's identity and how he fared. 

Now Gawain was mighty and grave, and known among his com- 
rades as " Gawain, the Courteous," because of his courtly man- 
ners; but he did not reverence his word as the King would have 
all men do, and often carried a treacherous heart. He accepted 
the quest with a smiling face but fared forth in wrath; for the 
feasting and merry-making were yet to come, and he loved the 
banquet and the company of the ladies better than he loved the 
service of the King. However, seeing that the knight was so 
sorely wounded, he hoped to find him in the nearby community, and 
so rode at a gallop, searching all the countryside, and stopping 
everywhere save at the neatly hidden hermit's cave. At length. 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 115 

as he traveled in an ever-widening circle, he came to the gates of 
Astolat, and Elaine hailed him joyfully: 

"Ho, Sir Knight! What news from Camelot? What of the 
knight of the red sleeve?" 

" He won," answered Gawain, half forgetting his courtly man- 
ners in his wonderment at the maiden's radiant beauty, " but he 
parted from the jousts hurt in the side." 

Whereat Elaine caught her breath, and smote her hand on her 
own side as though she felt the lance wound therein, and well- 
nigh fainted. Then came the Lord of Astolat, and to him Gawain 
told his quest, and how he had searched the countryside at random, 
and was wearied of it all. 

'* Aye ! " cried the hospitable lord warmly. " Ride no more 
at random, noble Prince ! Abide with us; here was the knight, and 
here he left a shield, which he will surely send or come for. 
Furthermore, our son is with him, and we shall surely have news 
soon." 

And Gawain, carelessly forgetful of the King's command, and 
more than willing to tarry for a time in a home containing so per- 
fect a maiden, consented with an exaggeration even of his usual 
courtesy, saying to himself: *' Well, if I bide, lo ! this wild flower 
for me 1 " So for many days he tarried, and set himself to play 
upon her with free flashes of courtly wit, songs, sighs, slow smiles, 
and golden eloquence. But the fair, lily-maid, Elaine, had no 
heart for his mock courtship, and soon grew very weary of him. 

"O Prince!" she cried. "Loyal nephew of our noble King, 
why ask you not to see the shield which the knight left, and in this 
wise learn his name? Why do you slight your King and lose the 
quest he sent you on? Why be no surer than our falcon, who, 
yesterday when we slipped him at the horn, lost it and went to all 
the winds? " 

" By my head," answered Gawain, " I lose it, as we lose the 
lark in heaven, O damsel, in the light of your blue eyes ! But, 
if you will, let me see the shield." 



ii6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And when he saw the azure lions, crowned with gold, he smote 
his thigh, and cried mockingly: "Right was the King! Our 
Lancelot! that true man! " 

" And right was I," answered the lily-maid merrily, not noticing 
his insincerity, " I, who dreamed my knight the greatest knight of 
all." 

"And is Lancelot your knight?" queried Sir Gawain, still in 
a mocking tone. " Have I, then, wasted my time? Do you love 
him, fair maiden? " 

" I know not," answered Elaine simply. " Perhaps I know not 
what love is, for my brothers are the only young men I have 
known ; but if I love not him, there is no other man that I can ever 
love." 

" Yea, by God's death," said Gawain, " I see you love him 
well, but doubt such If you would love him still if you knew what 
others know, or her whom they say he loves. But stay! One 
golden minute's grace ! He wore your favor at the tourney. Can 
he have changed his worship ? It well may be. 'Tis like our true 
man to change like a leaf at last! 'Tis no concern of mine. Far 
be it from me to cross our mighty Lancelot in his love ! And so, 
fair lily-maid, if, as I doubt not, you know his hiding-place, suffer 
me to leave the diamond with you. Here! If you love, it will 
be sweet to give It; and, if he love, it will be sweet to have it 
from your hand; and whether he love or not, a diamond Is a 
diamond. Fare you well a thousand times! A thousand times 
farewell! Yet, If he love, and his love holds true, we two may 
meet at Court hereafter." 

And so Gawain called for his horse and departed at full speed, 
caroling lightly as he went, well-pleased to be rid of the unwelcome 
quest. 

In the meantime. King Arthur had cut short the festivities at 
the jousts and returned home, filled with misgivings over the fate 
of his friend, if It were Lancelot, and minded to find out for a 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 117 

certainty. Almost the first question he asked of the Queen was, 
"Where is Lancelot?" 

"Was he not with you?" cried the Queen in amazement. 
" Did he not win the prize? " 

" Nay," answered Arthur, " but one liice him, — a great and 
mighty knight, even greater than Lancelot." 

'* Ah, but that was he!" exclaimed the Queen eagerly. "No 
sooner had you parted from us, my King, than Lancelot told me 
of a common talk that men went down before his spear at a touch 
knowing he was Lancelot; he said that his great name conquered, 
and therefore would he hide his name from all men, even the King, 
and to this end he made the pretext of a hindering wound, that 
he might joust unknown of all, and learn if his old prowess were 
in aught decayed, saying also, ' Our true, Arthur, when he learns, 
will well allow my pretext, as a gain of purer glory.' " 

"Aye! " replied the King sorrowfully, "but far lovelier in our 
Lancelot had it been, in lieu of idly dallying with the truth, to have 
trusted me as he hath trusted thee. Surely his King and most 
familiar friend might well have kept his secret. True, indeed, 
albeit I know my knights are fantastical, so fine a fear in our Lance- 
lot must needs have moved me to laughter; but now little cause 
remains for laughter. — 111 news, my Queen, for all who love him 
— ■ for his own kin knew him not and set upon him, and he left the 
field, no one knows whither, most sorely wounded. Only one item 
of it all cheers me, and that is the hope that Lancelot no longer 
bears a lonely heart; for, against his usual custom — and a thing 
that deceived us all — he wore upon his helm a beautiful scarlet 
sleeve, richly broidered with pearls. The gift of some gentle 
maiden, I doubt not; and God grant he be with her now! " 

" Yea, Lord," murmured Queen Guinevere, " thy hopes are 
mine," and could say no more, but turned sharply about and fled 
to her chamber, lest the King detect the sobs that threatened to 
choke her. Here she wrestled with her grief, well-nigh distraught 



ii8 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

over the thought that Lancelot had ceased to love her and turned 
to another. At length pride came to her aid, and she rose and 
moved about the palace, pale and cold. 

Days passed and still no message came from Lancelot, and the 
good King grew very uneasy and was exceeding wroth with the 
knight whom he had sent in search of him. Then came Gawain, 
light-hearted and courteous still, with a tale all fixed to suit the 
occasion. 

"Sir and my liege, the knight was Lancelot! This much I 
learned certainly, but I failed to find him, though I rode the whole 
country over. But I lighted on the maid whose sleeve he wore. 
She is the beautiful daughter of the Lord of Astolat, and known 
In all the country thereabouts as ' Elaine, the fair, Elaine, the good, 
Elaine, the lily-maid of Astolat.' Lovelier than the daintiest, 
purest lily in all the world is this lily-maid, and her love is given 
to Lancelot. And I, thinking our courtesy the truest law, gave 
the diamond into her keeping, charging her to deliver it at once 
to Lancelot; for by my head, she knows where our knight is in 
hiding." 

But the clever speech failed to pacify Arthur, and he turned 
frowningly upon the over-confident Gawain : " Too courteous you 
are, truly! You shall go no more on quest of mine, seeing that 
you forget obedience is the courtesy due to kings." 

So saying, the King turned shortly on his heel and left Gawain 
staring after him in silent anger. Then a vindictive light flashed 
into his cold gray eyes, and h€ glanced triumphantly to where the 
Queen leaned against a pillar, stricken to the heart with the news 
he had given; then tossed back his hair defiantly, and strode into 
the palace, there to buzz about stories of the lily-maid of Astolat 
and her love. 

Soon all through the palace flashed the whisper: "Lancelot 
loves the lily-maid of Astolat, and the lily-maid loves him." And 
many there were who marveled over it, and took great delight 
in probing the Queen, who hid her suffering as best she might. 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 119 

Like fire in dry stubble the story flared, and each day some fresh 
item was added by the gossips; till the knights at the banquet for- 
got to drink to Lancelot and the Queen, according to custom, 
but pledged Instead Lancelot and the llly-mald of Astolat, and 
smiled at each other as they did so; while the Queen listened to It 
all perforce, and smiled with cold, set lips, albeit she ground her 
feet deep Into the velvet beneath the banquet board, while the meats 
became as wormwood to her, and she hated all who pledged. 

Meantime, far away, the maid of Astolat, her guiltless rival, 
kept the memory of Lancelot green within her heart, and watched 
for him longingly day by day, but he did not come. Finally, heart- 
sick with waiting, she crept to her father's side and begged him to 
allow her to go in search of Lavalne. But her father guessed 
her secret; so she confessed at once that it was to find Lancelot, and 
give into his hand the diamond, that she wished to go. " For," 
said she, " in my dreams I have seen him lying pale and gaunt 
with wasting sickness, all for the lack of the care that I might give 
him." 

Fain would the old man have detained her at home, saying that 
they would surely have news soon; but she had ever been a petted, 
wilful child, and now he could not say her nay. So, perforce, 
he gave his consent, and she set out at once under the escort of 
her good brother. Sir Torre. They traveled for many weary miles 
over the downs toward Camelot, and at last came unexpectedly 
upon Lavalne, practising at arms upon his horse. 

" Lavalne ! " cried Elaine breathlessly. " Lavalne, how fares 
my lord, Sir Lancelot? " 

"Torre and Elaine!" ejaculated the youth, in open-mouthed 
amazement. "Why are ye here? Sir Lancelot! How know 
ye my lord's name Is Lancelot? " 

Elaine began eagerly to tell him of Gawain and his quest; but, 
before she was half through, Sir Torre, being vexed with her for 
coming forth, Interrupted with a brief farewell, saying that Elaine 
could stay with Lavalne If she were so minded, but as for him- 



I20 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

self he would get within the gates of their kinsman, who dwelt 
beyond the city, for rest and shelter. And so the lUy-mald went 
alone with Lavaine across the poplar grove to the cave of the 
hermit, and the first thing which she beheld was the remnant of her 
scarlet sleeve still bound upon the helmet, and It made her heart 
rejoice. Half timidly she advanced into the Inner room, and 
there saw the great Lancelot, gaunt and pain-wasted, scarcely more 
than the bare skeleton of his mighty self, lying upon a low couch 
of wolf skins, and a faint cry of pity escaped her. 

Gently she slipped to her knees beside him, and, when he turned 
his fever-kindled eyes upon her, she held up the gem, saying 
falterlngly: "Your prize, the diamond sent you by the King." 

Then, in a broken voice, she told him of all the events which 
had followed his disappearance from the lists, and ended by giv- 
ing the diamond into his hand. Her beautiful, pitying face was 
very close to him, and Lancelot turned and kissed her lightly, as 
one would kiss a child who had performed some sweet service, 
then he passed Into dreamless sleep. 

Through many a weary day and many a wearier night, the lily- 
maid watched over King Arthur's mightiest knight, tending him 
with never failing love and care, though his fevering wound often 
made him cross and impatient; until one day the wise hermit, 
skilled in herbs and potions and the woes of man, told her joy- 
fully that her tender care had saved his life. And during all this 
time Lancelot watched Elaine and called her sister, and saw with 
sorrow the secret love that burned within her heart. Often he 
reproached himself bitterly that he could repay her love and kind- 
ness only with a brother's love, and felt that had he met her earlier 
In life, before that other fatal bond had made him prisoner, per- 
chance she might have made another world for him. But now it 
could not be; It was too late to change, — ^the shackles of his old 
love straitened him, his honor rooted in dishonor stood, and 
his unfaithful love for Guinevere needs must keep him falsely true 
to her. Elaine, made wise by love, felt that he could not love her 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 121 

in return, and, over and over to herself, like a little helpless, in- 
nocent bird, she moaned plaintively, " If he will not love me, then 
I must die." 

As soon as Lancelot was able to sit in the saddle, Elaine and 
Lavaine guided him tenderly to Astolat, and there he lingered in 
the comfort of the princely castle until his wound was made whole, 
and his strength regained. And each morning Elaine appeared 
before him in her loveliest robes, hoping thus to awaken his love, 
and saying to herself: " If I be loved, these are my festal robes. 
If not, these are the victim's flowers before he falls." 

At last the time came when Lancelot felt it were unwise to 
tarry longer, and prepared to go back to the King's service. But 
before going he was anxious to give Elaine some present, or grant 
her some boon, in token of his grateful appreciation of her care 
for him. To this end, he besought her to tell him what she most 
wished for, but Elaine put him off, not liking to tell him of the 
one deep wish, and that only, that filled her heart. Finally, he 
came to her one day, as she roamed idly in the rose garden, and 
begged her to ask a boon, saying: "Speak your wish, sweet 
Elaine, for I go away to-day." 

Then all Elaine's fears rose up in her throat, the garden swam 
before her, and she faltered out: "Going? And shall I never 
see you more? Must I die for want of one bold word? Nay, I 
shall say it: I love you. I have gone mad, methinks." 

" Ah, sister," answered Sir Lancelot sorrowfully, " what is 
this?" 

"Your love," she said, innocently extending her white arms; 
" your love — to be your wife." 

" But, think you not, sweet Elaine, that had I chosen to wed, 
I would have been wedded earlier? Now there never will be wife 
of mine." 

" Oh," wailed Elaine, deaf to all thought but that the parting 
had come, and that she who had loved him back from death to 
life could never win from him a dearer name than sister, " not to 



122 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

be with you, not to see your face — alas, for me then, my good 
days are done ! " 

" Dear maiden," said Lancelot earnestly, seeking to lessen her 
heartache, " this is only a first fancy, a flash of youth such as is 
common to all, and not true love. You will smile at it yourself 
hereafter, when you are mated with one of your own years, not 
twice your age. And then will I, for you are true and sweet be- 
yond mine old belief in womanhood, endow you, like a brother, 
with broad land and territory, even to the half of my realm be- 
yond the sea, and in all your quarrels I will be your knight. But 
more than this I cannot." 

While he spoke, the lily-maid, deathly pale, leaned for support 
against the garden seat, then replied: "Of all this will I have 
nothing," and so fell swooning, and the servants who came run- 
ning at Lancelot's loud call carried her away to her chamber in 
the tower. 

Now it so happened that the Lord of Astolat, dreaming in the 
shrubbery near at hand, heard their talk, and could not find it in 
his heart to blame Lancelot. But he said to Lancelot sorrow- 
fully: "A first flash of youth, alas! yea, a flash that I fear will 
strike my fair blossom dead. Too courteous are you. Lord Lance- 
lot. If so be you could use some roughness, ere you go, to blunt 
or break her passion, all might yet be well." 

" That is a hard thing for me to do, my lord," replied Lance- 
lot, " seeing that I owe my life to her, and that I love her as I 
might were she my own dear sister; but I will do what I can, since 
you ask it." 

So, towards evening, Lancelot sent for his shield; and Elaine 
slipped it from its embroidered case and sent it to him, and leaned 
from out her casement to see him pass. She saw him ride below 
and noted sorrowfully that her favor was gone from ofi^ his helm. 
And Lancelot heard the clinking of the casement latch, and the 
lily-maid by tact of love saw that he heard, yet he did not look 
up or wave his hand, but rode swiftly away with down-bent head. 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 123 

This was the only discourtesy which he could bring himself 
to use. 

Now a great sorrow spread itself over Astolat and slowly set- 
tled down. The lily-maid who had been the light and joy of the 
place sorrowed and drooped in her chamber high to the east, like 
a pale ghost. No more did her light footstep skim through the 
house and garden; no more did her gay laughter bring smiles to the 
faces of father and brothers, and nothing that their love could 
devise seemed to cheer her. All day long she sat before the empty 
shield-case, with the voice of Lancelot in her heart and his picture 
obscuring her vision, mourning and praying that Death would ease 
her pain. Then one day the words of a little song came to her, 
and she wrote them down, calling it " The Song of Love and 
Death": 

" Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain ; 
And sweet is death who puts an end to pain : 
I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. 

"Love, art thou sweet? then bitter death must be: 
Love, art thou bitter; sweet is death to me. 
Oh, Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. 

" Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away ; 
Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, 
I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. 

" I fain would follow love, if that could be ; 
I needs must follow death, who calls for me; 
Call and I follow, I follow ! let me die ! " 

Her voice rang through the castle like a wild cry, and her 
brothers, shuddering, whispered hoarsely, " Hark, the phantom of 
the house that shrieks before death ! Alas, our sweet sister ! " 
This was in accordance with a superstition of the times, for in 
those days every one believed that the Death Spirit gave warning 



124 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

before he entered a home. The father and brothers, therefore, 
hastened with all speed to Elaine's room, but found that the shadow 
of Death had outstripped them and already lurked over the sweet 
face of their lily-maid, and not one of them could speak. 

For a moment Elaine watched them, smiling sweetly, then gave 
a pale little hand to each of her brothers: " Sweet brothers," she 
asked, " do you remember how you used to take me, when I was 
a little child, up the river in the great boatmen's barge; and how 
you would never go beyond the cape that has the poplar on it, 
though I cried to go on and find the palace of the King? Last 
night I dreamed that I was out alone upon the swollen river, and 
my childish wish to find the palace still stirred in my heart, and 
now that I am awake the wish still remains, and I pray thee, 
Father, let me go up to the great Court of Arthur and there find 
rest." 

"Peace, child!" answered the father, "you have not the 
strength to go so far alone. And wherefore would you look on 
this proud fellow again, who scorns us all?" 

" Oh," cried Torre, breaking into stormy sobs, " I never loved 
the man, and if I can but meet him, I care not how great he be, 
I shall surely strike him dead, for great grief hath he wrought in 
this house." 

" Fret not yourself, dear brother," pleaded the lily-maid gently, 
" nor be angry, seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's fault not to 
love me, than it Is mine to love him of all men who seems to me the 
highest." 

"Highest?" queried her father scornfully, meaning to break 
her love if he could. " Daughter, I know not what you call the 
highest, but this I do know, for it Is talked among all, he loves 
the queen in open shame, and she returns his love; If this be high, 
what is it to be low? " 

" O Father," answered the lily-maid faintly. " These are 
slanders. Never yet was man so noble, but some made Ignoble 
talk. He makes no friend who never made a foe. It Is my glory 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 125 

to have loved one peerless, without stain; so let me die, my Father, 
and I am not all unhappy, even though I have loved God's best 
and greatest knight without love In return. Thank you, Father, 
for wishing me to live, but you are working against your own de- 
sire; for, if I could believe the things you say, I should but die 
the sooner. Cease, Father, and call the priest that he may shrive 
me of my sins." 

So the holy man was summoned and ministered to her spirit, 
and departed, leaving her bright and happy. Then she turned 
eagerly to Lavalne, her youngest and dearest, and besought him 
to write a letter for her. 

"Is it for Lancelot?" queried the boy-knight. "If it is for 
my dear lord, then will I bear it to him gladly." 

" Nay, dear brother," answered Elaine softly, " 'tis for Lance- 
lot and the Queen and all the world beside, and I myself must 
bear It." 

In unbroken silence the letter was written according to her dicta- 
tion. Then Elaine turned pleadingly to her father: "O good 
Father, tender and true, you who have always given me my will, 
deny not now my last request! When the breath is gone from 
out my body, wrap me In my richest, fairest raiment, and deck 
my little bed with coverings as dainty and beautiful as the Queen's 
own; then bear me on it to the old black barge, and drape It like 
a funeral pall, and let our old dumb servant row me to the Court 
of Arthur. But ere I die, place the letter In my hand that I may 
bear It with me. And let us go alone; for none of you could speak 
for me so eloquently as mine own silent self. Shall It be so, 
Father? Promise! O Father, promise me." 

And the father who had never denied even her simplest request 
In life could not deny her In death, so promised with bitter sobs. 
And then Elaine grew so bright and happy that the shadow seemed 
to lift from her face, and her household whispered one to another 
that mayhap Death had stayed his hand, and that perhaps 'twas 
more In Imagination than in the blood. But on the eleventh morn- 



126 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Ing she asked her father for the letter, and, with a sweet low- 
murmured farewell to all, she died. 

Grief reigned supreme in Astolat, and the whole house mourned 
uncomforted, but all was done as the dear lily-maid desired. Her 
brothers bore her gently to the black-samite draped barge, and laid 
her tenderly in a cloth of gold that wrapped her to her waist. 
Purest white was her shroud, and her beautiful, unbound hair 
framed her face and floated o'er her breast and pillow in purest 
gold. In one hand she bore the letter, and in the other Lavaine 
placed a beautiful, white lily, fitting emblem of the lily-maid. 
Above her head they hung the silk-embroidered cover she had 
wrought for Lancelot's shield, and they bent over her for the last 
farewell. 

" Look, Torre," cried Lavaine brokenly, " she smiles as though 
her sleep were sweet ! One scarce would call her dead, but sleep- 
ing. Oh, Elaine, sweet lily-maid of Astolat, farewell ! Farewell, 
my sister dear ! Sweet be thy rest ! " 

And so the brothers turned stumblingly away, blinded by their 
tears; and the dead, rowed by the dumb, passed up the river to- 
ward the great King's palace at Camelot. 

Now it chanced that on that very day Sir Lancelot craved an 
audience of the Queen to present to her the diamonds won in the 
nine years' jousts. Coldly, like a marble statue of herself, the 
Queen received him in a vine-clad oriel on the river side of the 
palace. 

" O Queen! " cried Lancelot, kneeling at her feet, " my Queen, 
I bring you fitting tribute of your beauty. Grant my worship, 
dear lady, and make me happy by accepting these jewels. I had 
not won but for you. Priceless are they, and yet scarce fit to match 
your loveliness ! I pray you to twine them into an armlet for the 
roundest arm on earth, or make them into a necklace for a neck 
which shames the graceful swan ! And, dear lady, rumors have 
I heard flying through the Court which I trust you have not given 
ear to. Our bond, not being the bond of man and wife, should 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 127 

have in it a firmer trust. Let rumors be. When did not rumors 
fly? I trust that you believe me in your own nobleness." 

As he spoke, the Queen half turned away and plucked from 
the vine-embowered window leaf after leaf, and threw them, all 
torn and crumpled, upon the floor, till the place was strewn with 
green. Then, accepted the diamonds with a cold passive hand, 
and laid them upon the table, ere she burst forth angrily, filled 
with her own fancied wrongs: 

" It may be I am quicker of belief than you believe me, Lance- 
lot of the Lake. Our bond is not the bond of man and wife, and 
is then easier broken — this much hath it of good. For many 
years I have for your sake done wrong to one whom in my heart 
of hearts I ever acknowledged the nobler. And now, diamonds 
for me ! To loyal hearts the value of all gifts must vary as the 
giver's. I want them not ! Give them to her, your new fancy ! 
I pray you add my diamonds to her pearls! Deck her In this 
splendor; tell her she shines me down: an armlet for an arm to 
which the Queen's is haggard, or a necklace for a neck, oh, as 
much fairer as faith once fair was richer than these diamonds! 
Nay, by the mother of our Lord himself, she shall not have them ! " 
so saying, the angry Queen, beside herself with jealousy, caught 
up the diamonds and flung them passionately into the river, then 
rushed in frenzy from the room. 

Lancelot staggered to the window ledge and leaned, half-sick 
of life and love and all things of the world worldly, looking down 
upon the water where his jeweled hopes lay buried. And as he 
stood there, lo ! there came slowly up the funeral-draped barge 
bearing the lily-maid of Astolat, and paused beneath his window, 
for the gateway of the palace was near at hand. Lancelot was 
stricken as dumb as Elaine's poor servitor with amazement and 
grief. "My pure lily-maid! Sweet Elaine of Astolat!" cried 
his heart reproachfully. " O woe is me! Her father judged the 
thing aright. Sweet Heaven, that such must be ! Would to God, 
Elaine, I had died for thee! " 



128 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And while Lancelot stood motionless, struggling with his deep 
emotion, for he had loved the sweet lily-maid dearly, though not 
as she desired, the guards of the castle and the people stared 
wonderingly, whispering one to another, "Who and what Is It?" 
Then, as the dumb man responded not to their queries, and all his 
face remained as motionless as though cast in stone, some one cried: 
" He is enchanted. He cannot speak. And she, look, more beau- 
tiful than the fairest angel Is she! She sleeps! It Is the Fairy 
Queen herself! " 

Cries of dismay and grief arose on every hand, for it had been 
prophesied that the King would not die, but would one day pass 
into fairyland. And many were there who believed. Indeed, that 
this was the fairy barge, come to carry their King away. 

Soon Arthur himself heard the noise and came, with his knights, 
to see what it was all about. Then the dumb man uprose in silent 
majesty and pointed first to the dead maiden, then to Arthur and 
next to the castle doors; and the great King understood him and 
signed to two of his purest knights, Sir Perclvale and Sir Galahad, 
to lift the maiden and bear her reverently into the hall. 

All the knights and ladies gathered around, and soon came the 
fine Gawain who had bade her a thousand farewells, crying In 
amazement: "The lily-maid! Sweet Elaine of Astolat!" 
Then came Lancelot who had taken no farewell, and stood before 
her as voiceless now as when she leaned from the casement gazing 
at him ; and all his heart was lead within him, and the people 
marveled at his emotion and whispered one to another. Last of 
all came Queen Guinevere, and, when she saw the beautiful. In- 
nocent, dead face, her anger melted, and all her heart thrilled with 
purest pity. Then King Arthur spied the letter In her hand, and, 
stooping, took It gently, broke the seal, and read: 

" Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, I, sometime known 
as the Maid of Astolat, am come to bid farewell to thee, since 
thou hast taken no farewell of me. I loved thee, and my love 
had no return, so therefore has it been my death. And so I make 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 129 

moan to Queen Guinevere and to all the ladies of the Court that 
ye pray for my soul and give me burial. And do thou, too, Sir 
Lancelot, pray for my soul, as thou art a knight peerless." 

And all those who heard the letter wept for pity, and, glancing 
at the maiden half-fancied that her lips moved. Many eyes were 
turned on Lancelot reprovingly, and, seeing this, he stepped out 
before them all and told the lily-maid's story in a trembling voice : — 

" My lord Arthur, and all ye that hear, know that I am right 
heavy for this gentle maiden's death, for good she was and true, 
and nursed me from my wound, and loved me with a love passing 
the love of women. God knows I gave her no cause to love me, 
and only showed her a brother's love in return, of this her father 
and brethren will bear witness. Nay, more, her father begged 
me, when I was leaving, to be plain and blunt and break her pas- 
sion with some discourtesy. This I disliked to do, for the damsel 
had been very kind to me, and I loved her as though she had been 
my own dear sister, but, to please her father, I left her without 
taking farewell. And now, from the letter, it would seem that 
I only wounded her gentle heart in vain," 

" Sir Knight," cried the Queen bitterly, her anger still working 
like a sea after storm, " it seems to me you might have shown her 
so much grace as would have kept her from her death! " 

Lancelot looked up quickly, their eyes met, and her own fell: 
*' Queen," he said slowly, " she would not be content save to be 
my wife or my love, and neither of these could be. I told her 
that her love was but the flash of youth, and would die to rise 
again for some one more suitable to her in age. And also did I 
promise that when she had put aside her thought of me and wedded 
some youthful love more worthy of her, I would endow them with 
wealth and goods from my own estate. More than this I could 
not do, and this she would not have, but grieving, died." 

" Alas," said King Arthur, sighing heavily, " I can not see that 
thou art to blame, albeit, lovely as she is in death, she must have 
been radiant enough in life to have awakened love in the heart 



I30 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

of the noblest knight. But It is thy duty and mine, as head of the 
Round Table, to see that she be buried worshipfully." 

So the King gave orders that a tomb should be opened for Elaine, 
among the royal dead in the richest shrine in Camelot, and he him- 
self led the funeral train. All the knights followed in martial or- 
der, and " with gorgeous obsequies, mass, and rolling music " the 
lily-maid's golden head was laid low in the dust, " ashes to ashes," 
among the half-forgotten Kings and royal ladies. And Arthur 
commanded : " Let her tomb be grand and costly. Place her 
image thereupon, with a carved lily in her hand, and the shield 
of Lancelot at her feet, and blazon with gold and azure letters the 
story of her voyage hither, that all true hearts may read." 

Then the great crowd turned homeward, in such order as pleased 
each, and the Queen, marking where Sir Lancelot stood apart with 
his eyes bent upon the ground, passed near him and murmured 
low: " Lancelot, forgive me; mine was jealousy in love." 

" Aye," returned Lancelot, without looking up, " that Is love's 
curse ! Pass on, my Queen, forgiven." 

And Arthur, the pure King, seeing his knight's clouded brow, 
came to him and said affectionately: " Lancelot, my Lancelot, my 
knight in whom I have the most joy and affection, seeing this home- 
less trouble in your eyes, I would to God that thou couldst have 
loved this maiden, so fair and pure, fashioned for thee alone It 
seems, who might have made for thee a happy home and given 
thee loving sons to inherit the name and fame of Lancelot of the 
Lake." 

" Aye, my lord," answered Lancelot faintly, " fair and pure in- 
deed she was, and as lovely in mind as in body, but love cometh 
not by force." 

" No," sighed the King, " but there is nothing on this side 
of Heaven better than true, married love, and that she failed to 
win thee to this, true and gentle as thou art. Is sore pity." 

Lancelot could form no answer, and turned away, wandering 
blindly to a friendly cove beside the river. Here he lifted up his 



THE LILY MAID OF ASTOLAT 131 

eyes and saw the barge that brought the maid of Astolat moving 
afar off, a blot upon the stream. And he murmured low in grief: 
" Ah, sweet lily-maid, you loved me surely with a love far tenderer 
than my Queen's. Farewell, fair lily, now — at last. Yea, I will 
indeed pray ever for thy soul, as thou didst desire me. Queen, 
may not your growing fear for name and fame tell truly of a love 
that wanes? And why did the King dwell on my name to me? 
Mine own name shames me, seeming a reproach. Lancelot of the 
Lake! Indeed, 'twere better if the Lady of the Lake had drowned 
nie in the mere from which they say I sprung. Alas, for Arthur's 
greatest knight — a man not after Arthur's heart! Of what 
worth is my greatness or my name if only it makes men worse, and 
my example leads them to sin? I will break these sundering bonds 
of shame! But can I if she wills it not? Mayhap, fair lily, thou 
hast not died in vain! Beseech God, if I do not change, to send 
his angel down to seize me by the hair and bear me far, and fling 
me deep into that forgotten mere which lies among the tumbled 
fragments of the hills." 

And so Lancelot mourned and wrestled with his troubled spirit 
throughout all the long night, not knowing he should die a holy 
man. 



CHAPTER IX 

THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 

THE search for the Holy Grail was the most wonderful 
quest in all the history of Arthur. And it began in this 
wise: 

The gentle sister of Sir Percivale, known among the knight- 
hood as " Percivale the Pure," being disappointed in love, fled 
for peace to a convent and devoted herself to a life of prayer and 
praise, fasting and almsgiving. Here she learned from her Con- 
fessor, an aged man whose hair was whitened by an hundred win- 
ters, a legend concerning the time of our Lord, which had been 
handed down through five or six generations. 

When our Lord Christ hung upon the cross, there came one 
of his loving followers, Joseph of Arimathasa, and caught In a 
cup the blood which fell from the Master's wounded side. And 
this cup, was called the " Holy Grail," and was the same from 
which our Lord had drunk at the Last Supper with his disciples. 
Now, in the dark days of persecution that followed, Joseph was 
obliged to flee from the Holy Land, and took refuge In the Island 
of Britain, where Aviragus, the heathen prince, gave him a home 
In the town of Glastonbury. Here Joseph wished to found a 
church of the true faith, and desired from God a sign from Heaven 
as to the fitness of the place. So, after much fasting and prayer, 
he planted his hard pilgrim staff In the ground one Christmas eve, 
and the next morning, lo! a wonderful miracle had happened. 
The staff had taken root and was crowned with leaves and flowers, 
and Joseph took it as a symbol that the faith of Christ would thrive 
and blossom In that heathen land. And the staff grew into a beau- 
tiful thorn tree, and ever since that time the winter thorn has blos- 
somed at Christmas In memory of our Lord. 

132 



THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 133 

The Holy Grail remained in the possession of Joseph for many 
years, and was a great blessing to mankind; for whoever was suf- 
fering or afflicted in any way had but to touch it, or look, at it, 
and their troubles fled. But the times grew so evil that so pure a 
thing could not remain in the sin-afflicted world, and It was caught 
up to Heaven. But when Joseph of Arimathaea had been sleeping 
under the Glastonbury thorn for about four hundred years, and 
the reign of Arthur, " the blameless white king," was come, pious 
people everywhere began to hope that the Grail might again be 
returned to earth to crown and glorify the good works of their 
noble king. Perclvale's sister, the gentle sweet-eyed nun, spent 
all her days in fasting and in prayer that the Grail might come 
once more. And her great faith and constant prayer was re- 
warded thus : 

One night as she lay sleeping in her narrow convent cell, she 
was awakened by a sound as of silver horns blowing over the hills 
In the far distance. At first she thought It some hunter's horn, 
but as the sound came nearer and louder, and sleep cleared from 
her brain, she realized that Arthur and his knights would not be 
abroad at that hour, and that " naught that we blow with breath 
or touch with hands " could make such clear, beautiful music. 
Wonderingly she raised herself from her rest, and then a long 
silver beam stole Into the room, and down the beam floated the 
Holy Grail, " rose-red with beatings In It, as if alive," and the 
white walls of the room glowed with rosy colors; and when the 
Grail had passed, the beam faded away and the rosy quiverings 
died away Into the night. Then the saintly maiden rose up and 
spent the remaining night hours in joyful prayer and thanksgiving, 
and, as soon as morning dawned, hurried away to her brother. 

" O Percivale ! " she cried, her eyes shining with beautiful light 
and holiness, " the Grail has come ! The Holy Thing Is here on 
earth once more ! Rejoice with me, sweet brother, for I have 
seen It, truly." Then she told him all about the vision and be- 
seeched him, saying: ''Brother, fast thou, too, and pray. And 



134 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

tell thy brother knights to fast and pray, that so perchance the- 
vision may be seen by thee and those, and all the world be healed." 

And Percivale hastened to spread the good news among men, 
and himself and many others fasted and prayed for weeks, ex- 
pectant of the wonder that would be. 

Now there dwelt in Arthur's halls a beautiful boy-knight of 
gentle mien, who moved about always clothed in spotless white, 
with a face radiant as an angel's, and he was pure as the driven 
snow. Sir Galahad was his name. Brothers and sisters he had 
not; neither did any one know who his parents were, but he had 
been reared by the nuns at the convent. The story of the Grail 
inspired him, and he went to the nun to inquire concerning it. So 
pleased was the gentle sister with his purity and innocence, that 
she cut from her shining wealth of hair enough to plait a broad, 
strong sword-belt, and into this she wove with silver and crimson 
threads a strange device of a crimson grail within a silver beam, 
and bound it on the youth, saying: " My knight of Heaven, 
whose faith and love is one with mine, round thee I bind my belt. 
Go forth, fast and pray, for thou shalt see what I have seen, and 
one will crown thee king far away in the spiritual city." 

At the great Round Table in the hall at Camelot there was 
one vacant seat, which Merlin, the great wizard, had built. It 
was fashioned with strange inscriptions and devices, and was called 
" The Siege Perilous." No one dared occupy it, because, accord- 
ing to Merlin, none but the pure could sit therein safely. And 
the strength of the warning had been fully proven: at different 
times daring ones who deemed themselves above reproach, so 
rumor whispered, had attempted it, and been swallowed up for- 
evermore. 

Now it chanced one evening that, as the knights sat around 
the table. Sir Galahad announced his intention of occupying the 
seat called the Siege Perilous. And the knights cried out In alarm 
and warning, but Galahad only laughed at their fears, saying, 
" If I lose myself, I save myself," and straightway sat down. 



THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 135 

Then all the knights gasped and looked to see some dreadful 
thing befall him, but to their amazement no judgment was meted 
out. Instead, a great miracle was worked In their midst. All at 
once there came a dreadful sound as though the roof were crack- 
ing and rending over their heads. A fearful blast of mighty wind 
swept down upon the castle, and terrible thunders pealed aloft; 
and mingled with the sound of thunder was a strange cry, such 
as man had never heard before. Then there burst Into the room 
a beam of light, seven times more clear than day, and down that 
long, clear beam stole the Holy Grail, all enshrouded In a luminous 
cloud, and none could see who bore it. As it passed, the knights 
were stricken dumb, and each one arose and beheld his fellow's 
face as in a glory, and no one spoke until the light had vanished 
and the thunders ceased. 

Then Sir Perclvale found his voice and cried out, vowing that, 
because he had not seen the Grail plainly, he would ride In quest of 
it and see It without the veil. If it took a twelvemonth and a day. 
And many other knights also took the vow, among them being 
Galahad and Lancelot, and his cousin Sir Bors, and Gawain, the 
Courteous, who shouted louder than all the rest. 

Now it chanced that King Arthur was not in the hall when the 
vision appeared, having ridden forth with some of his knights 
early in the day to storm the fastness of a horde of robbers who 
were working much damage along the borders. But from afar 
he heard the terrible thunder and saw the smoke rolling up from 
the roofs of Camelot, and cried out in alarm lest they had been 
smitten by lightning, and the wonderful work wrought by Merlin 
should vanish In unremorseful folds of rolling fire. With all speed 
he spurred toward home and entered with his smoked, grimy, 
blood-stained followers into the vision-swept room, and stood in 
wonder at the knights, all in a tumult, some vowing, some pro- 
testing. 

" Perclvale! Perclvale! " he cried, half in amaze, half In anger, 
to the knight nearest him, " what means this unseemly confusion? " 



136 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And Percivale told him what had taken place, and how the 
knights had vowed their vows to see the Grail uncovered. Then 
the King's face grew dark indeed, and he cried in anguish : 
"Woe is me, my knights! Had I been here, ye had not sworn 
this vow." 

"Aye! " cried Sir Percivale boldly, unlike his usual meek, quiet 
self, " if thou hadst been here thyself, my King, thou, too, wouldst 
have sworn ! " 

"How now!" exclaimed Arthur sternly. "Art thou so bold 
and hast not seen the Grail?" 

" Nay, Lord," answered Percivale, " I heard the sound, I saw 
the light, but since I beheld only the shadow of the Holy Thing, 
I swore a vow to follow it until I saw." 

The King then asked various members of the Order if they had 
seen the Grail, but all answered as one : " Nay, Lord, and there- 
fore have we sworn our vows." 

" Lo, now," queried Arthur bitterly, "have ye seen a cloud? 
What go ye into the wilderness to see? " 

Then on a sudden the voice of Galahad came clear and sweet 
from the lower end of the hall : " O King, I not only saw the 
wondrous Grail, but heard a voice saying, *0 Galahad! O Gal- 
ahad, follow me! ' " 

" Ah, Galahad, Galahad," said the King, " for such as thou 
is the vision; not for these other of my knights. No doubt your 
pure self and the saintly maiden have seen Christ's holy symbol. 
But," turning to the others, " ye are not Galahads, no, nor Per- 
civales, not men of holiness and stainless life, but rather war- 
riors, good and true, with strength to right the wrong, beat down 
violence and lawlessness, and drive the heathen from our land. 
But now ye wish to follow like sheep the leader's bell; one hath 
seen the vision and all the rest, blind though ye be, think ye will 
see it, too. Well, so be it! Since your vows are made, they are 
sacred, and ye must go. However, I know full well that many 
will return no more, but lose their lives in following wandering 



THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 137 

fires! Our good hall will ring with calls for knightly quests and 
noble deeds, and who will respond, think you ? O me ! that the 
flower of my realm should thus turn their backs upon duty and 
court ruin! Ye think I am a gloomy prophet; we shall see. But, 
my knights, ere we part, and the fair Order of the Round Table 
which I made, be scattered, let us meet once more in a joyous 
tournament to-morrow, that I may count your ranks for the last 
time unbroken." 

Accordingly, the next day the great joust was held, and never 
was such a tourney held before at Camelot. All the knights 
jousted well and nobly, and Galahad and Perclvale, being filled 
with holy power, won tumultuous shouts from the people for their 
surprising quickness and skill. But not a knight thought of for- 
saking his vow, and toward evening one and all began making 
silent preparations to depart on the morrow. Then the veil of 
sorrow which had all day been hovering over Camelot, casting 
shadows on the merriment, fell and muffled all in gloom. 

Early in the morning the knights passed from Camelot to engage 
in the Great Quest, and all the windows and long galleries and 
balconies and even the house-tops were filled with people, who 
rained flowers upon them and cheered and cried, "God-speed!" 
as they passed. But In the King's household there was great grief, 
and the noble King could scarcely control his voice to speak fare- 
well. The Court ladles wept and walled and accompanied their 
knights to the gateway, and Queen Guinevere, who rode by Lance- 
lot's side, shrieked aloud In agony, crying: "Alas, this madness 
has come upon us for our sins ! " 

At the mystic gateway, where the three queens stood on guard, 
the company broke up, and each knight went his own way, while 
Arthur and his sorrowing household returned to the deserted halls 
of Camelot. And for a time the blameless, whole-souled King 
shut himself up, and mourned In exceeding grief and bitterness 
over what he felt to be the beginning of the end of the noble 
kingdom which he had wrested from wild beasts and heathen 



138 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

hordes. Then he roused himself and sought to find new knights 
to take the places of his dearest and best, who rode at random, 
meeting, for the most part, with naught but distress and failure; 
and ever misfortune, sorrow, and treason crept nearer to him who 
had struggled so hard to revive In man the Image of his Maker. 

Now, we may not follow separately the many knights who went 
out In the mad quest for the Grail, so we will content ourselves 
with setting down the tale as told by Perclvale, the Pure, to his 
fellow-monk, Ambroslus, In an abbey, where he secluded him- 
self from the pomp and vanities of the world on his return from 
a partially successful search. 

" When I left my fellows I was lifted up In heart," said Per- 
clvale, " and never yet had Heaven appeared so blue, or earth so 
green, and all my blood danced within me, and I knew that I 
should see the Holy Grail. But after a time my mind misgave 
me, and every evil thought and deed of times gone by seemed to 
rise up In judgment against me and repeat Arthur's words: ' This 
Quest Is not for thee.' 

" Soon I found myself alone In a land of sand and thorns, and 
I was sore athlrst. All about me the air was filled with mocking 
visions: first, I seemed to see a stream of water, clear and cool, 
and goodly apples on trees hard by; but when I drew nigh hop- 
ing to eat and drink, all fell Into dust and vanished. Then, as I 
rode on, home-like visions came to me, only to fall Into dust as 
I approached. And presently a great warrior In golden armor, 
with a golden crown, riding on a war-horse also trapped In gold 
and jewels, came out to meet me and embrace me In his arms; 
but as I drew nigh unto him, he, too, fell Into dust and vanished, 
and I was left alone and weary. Again I saw a city set high upon 
a hill, and by the walled gateway was a great crowd, and they 
cried as in one mighty voice, ' Welcome, Perclvale, thou might- 
iest and purest of men I ' Eagerly I climbed up, but found at 
the top no man or voice that answered me; only the crumbling 
ruin of a deserted city. And I cried in grief: ' Lo, if I find 



THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 139 

the Holy Grail itself and touch it, it, too, will crumble into dust.' 
" Then I dropped into a vale, low as the hill was high, and 
here found a holy hermit to whom I described my phantoms, and 
he made answer: ' O, son, thou lackest the highest virtue, the 
mother of them all — true humility. Thou hast been full of pride 
and thoughts of self and thine own advancement. Thou must 
needs have the mind which was in Christ Jesus, who humbled Him- 
self that all should follow His example. Thou must, like the 
sinless Galahad, lose thyself to save thyself.' 

"Scarcely had he finished speaking when lo! Galahad himself 
appeared in the chapel doorway, all shining in golden armor, and 
we entered the holy place and knelt in prayer. Here the hermit 
slacked my terrible thirst, and then blessed the sacrament and of- 
fered it to us. I took the bread in silence, but Galahad turned 
to me in amazement, albeit his face shown with a wonderful 
radiance. 'Saw ye nothing, Percivale?' he queried. 'I, Gala- 
had, saw the Grail, the Holy Grail, descend upon the shrine ! I 
saw the face of a child that smote itself into the bread and went; 
and not now alone, but always is the Holy Thing with me day 
and night. And by its blood-red strength I have conquered the 
heathen everywhere, and broken their evil ways, and made their 
realms mine for the King and Christ. But my time is hard at 
hand when I shall go hence and be crowned King afar in the 
spiritual city; wherefore arise and follow me, for thou, too, shalt 
see the vision when I go.' 

" His great faith filled me with power, and toward evening 
I followed him with difficulty up a great, tempest-swept hill. Be- 
yond it lay an evil-smelling, blackened swamp, whitened here and 
there with dead men's bones, and impassable save where in ancient 
times a king had built a causeway of piers and arches running out 
into the great Sea. Over these bridges Galahad sped at once, 
and I would fain have followed; but every arch, as soon as he 
had crossed it, leapt into fire and vanished, and thrice above him 
I heard a thunderous sound like the joyous shoutings of all the 



I40 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

sons of God. And then I saw him far away on the great Sea, 
his armor shining hke a star, and over his head hung the Holy Grail, 
veiled in a luminous cloud. And the boat, if boat it were — I saw 
not whence it came — sped with exceeding swiftness; and presently 
from the heavens shot a glorious light and I beheld the Holy 
Vessel, shining rose-red, clear and pure, over his head, and I gave 
a shout of joy for I knew the veil had been withdrawn. Then 
in the distance I saw the spires and gateways of the spiritual city, 
and beheld Galahad move into it like a shooting-star. And then 
the darkness fell, and I saw no more. How I returned to the 
hermitage I know not, but from thence I rode back to Camelot, 
filled with exceeding joy that my quest was over and that phantoms 
would never vex me more." 

Silence ensued for a time, each one busy with his own thoughts, 
until the old monk turned to his companion, with a sigh: " How 
different our lives have been ! Yours filled with Court pleasantries, 
noble quests, mysteries and visions; mine with homely duties among 
my fold — for I know every honest face as a shepherd knows his 
sheep — days of quiet prayer, and reading of monkish books. 
But tell me this, Percivale, saving this Sir Galahad, came you 
on none but phantoms in your quest? " 

'* O my brother," answered Percivale sadly, " must I tell thee 
how far I faltered from my vow? As I wandered about, seeking 
in vain for the Grail, I chanced upon a goodly town built round 
a stately palace, where dwelt a Princess rich and beautiful. I 
knocked at the gates and asked for succor in the name of our 
noble Arthur. Straightway I was admitted and disarmed by 
maidens, fair as flowers; then conducted into the presence of the 
noble Princess. And lo! brother, my very breath stopped, for 
she was one whom in my youth I had loved with my whole heart, 
and never since had maiden stirred my pulse, and now I had found 
her again, the heiress of a dead man's wealth. My heart went out 
to her again, as of old, and I saw that she loved me, but I made 
no sign, for I was poor and she rich. However, as I walked one 



THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 141 

day in the orchard, she stole upon me and gave me her first kiss 
and asked If I would wed her. Now, she was very dear to me, 
and the Quest seemed far off, yet I hesitated, for Arthur's words 
came to me, and I felt that this would be ' following wandering 
fires ' indeed. Then, the leading knights of her territory came 
to me and begged me to wed with her and be their Prince^ and 
how near I was to yielding, God knoweth; but, brother, one night 
my vow flared up and burned within me, and I rose and fled from 
temptation, yet, as I went, I wept and wailed and hated myself 
and the Holy Grail and all things save her, my beautiful Princess. 
But soon after this I came to the hermit's hut and met Galahad, 
and thereafter cared no more for her, or anything else on earth." 

" O, brother, the pity of It! " exclaimed Ambrosius. " To find 
thine own first love again, all but hold her a bride within thine 
arms, and then to cast her aside like a weed ! But I sympathize 
with what I know not, for earthly love has never yet come nigh 
me. Still, brother, I am glad that you have come hither, for hope 
springs alive in my breast that now, at last, I have found a true 
friend. But stay, Perclvale, saw you none of your own knight- 
hood as you wandered? " 

" Yes," answered Percivale, " one night I met Sir Bors, the 
cousin of Lancelot, and most joyful was our meeting. Eagerly 
we questioned each other concerning the Quest, and among the first 
things I asked him was: 'Have you seen aught of Lancelot?' 
' Aye,' answered Bors sadly. ' He dashed past me once In the 
fever of madness and maddening what he rode. Why ridest 
thou so hotly on a holy Quest? ' I shouted. ' Stay me notf * was 
the answer. ' I have played the sluggard, and now I ride apace, 
for there Is a lion In the way,' and so he vanished, and I am sore 
grieved that Heaven hath plagued him thus. You see, brother, 
Bors loved Lancelot faithfully, and said he would be content to 
give up the Quest, If by so doing he could help Lancelot to see the 
Holy Grail. 

" Then he told me how, in his wanderings, he had fallen into 



142 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

the hands of a pagan people, who worshiped the sun, moon, and 
stars, and when he told them of the blessed Christ and his Quest, 
they mocked him and made him a prisoner. For many days he 
lay in a foul, underground dungeon until by a miracle — what 
else? — 3. great, heavy stone, such as no wind could move, slipped 
and fell, letting In a rush of sweet, fresh air. As he lay gazing 
out upon the starlit night, the beautiful rose-red Grail stole past 
him on a beam of light, followed by a deafening peal of thunder. 
Then a maiden of his own faith, who worshiped In secret among 
the Pagan herd, came to him stealthily and loosening his bonds, 
aided him to escape." 

" Aye," cried Ambrosius, " I know the knight of whom you speak ! 
He chanced this way, and surely It was the same man. Forsooth, he 
gave the name of Bors; a shining pelican was engraved upon his 
helm, and he seemed a reverent, square-set, honest man, with eyes 
a-klndle and a warm smile, half shrouded in sadness, upon his lips. 
But saw you no knight but Bors ? And when you reached Came- 
lot what befell you there? Were all the knights returned, or 
had there been truth in Arthur's prophecy? And what said the 
knights, and what replied the King?" 

" One question at a time, brother," answered Perclvale, smiling 
at the monk's eagerness, " else I shall not be able to satisfy thee. 
The good Bors and I journeyed back together, and all along the 
way were striking evidences of the trouble and ruin that had de- 
scended upon Arthur's once orderly realm. Here and there grand 
castles were fallen into decay and peopled with ghosts and phan- 
toms; we met no gaily decked, smiling knights, and our horses 
slipped and stumbled desperately over carcasses of hornless unicorns 
and once noble talbots, while all about the bones of the deadly 
basilisk and the hated cockatrice lay bleaching In the sun. 

" We found our beloved King seated upon the throne in 
his lonely hall, and before him stood only one-tenth of those who 
had gone forth so joyously on the Quest, and they were worn and 
wasted. Most kindly did our King welcome me — for I had 



; 



THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 143 

ever been a favorite with him — saying that they had greatly 
feared I had been destroyed in the late fierce storm which had 
made sad havoc all about, and inquiring sadly if I had seen the 
Holy Cup that Joseph of old had brought to Glastonbury. 

" Then, when I had told him all that thou hast heard and of 
my decision to spend my life in prayer in the seclusion of a monastery 
he answered me never a word, but turned sharply to his nephew, 
the courteous Gawain, saying, ' Gawain, was the Quest for such 
as thee? ' ' Nay, my lord,' answered Gawain softly, ' neither did I 
pursue it long, for I met a holy man who showed me plainly that 
it was not. Therefore, I gave myself to making merry in joyous 
company, and spent my twelvemonth and a day right pleasantly.' 

" The King now caught sight of Bors, where he stood by Lance- 
lot's side, and hailed him cordially: 'AH hail. Sir Bors! Thou, 
I know, hast seen the Grail, if ever it could be seen by loyal man 
and true,' ' Yes, my King,' answered Bors simply, ' but ask me 
no more, for I cannot speak of it.' And I saw that he had clasped 
Lancelot's hand tightly, and that his eyes were filled with tears, 
in grief and sympathy for his beloved kinsman. 

" Arthur then called upon others of the sorry company, but 
each and all spoke of naught but perils by flood and field, till only 
Lancelot remained, for the King had kept his mightiest till the 
last. ' O Lancelot, my friend,' he said, ' our mightiest, hast thou 
achieved the Quest?' — 'Alas, King,' groaned Lancelot sorrow- 
fully, ' Arthur, my friend, if indeed I be a friend of thine, and 
mightiest, methinks those are happier who welter in their sins like 
swine in the mud, sunk so low they cannot see their own shame ! 
For in me evil and good strove together for the mastery, and the 
pure and knightly seemed the very stock round which the evil twined 
and grew, till neither could scarce be discerned; so that, when the 
knights swore together to find the Grail, I swore with them, hop- 
ing that if I might touch or see the Holy Thing I might pluck 
the two asunder, and cast out the evil. I went to a holy saint, 
and he wept and told me that unless I could separate the two, the 



144 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Quest itself was not for me. So I wrestled In prayer as he directed 
me, and even while I prayed my madness came again upon me, 
and drove me Into the deep wilderness. Here I became the sport 
of little men who once had fled at the mere shadow of my sword. 
Fleeing from them, I came to the wild sea-shore, and there found 
a boat tossing among the dank grasses. And all the sea was lashed 
with foam, and drove like a cataract against the sand, and a wild 
thought came to me that, perchance, I might embark and lose my- 
self in the seething waters, and thus wash away my sin in the great 
Sea. No sooner thought than done; I burst the chains, and sprang 
into the boat, and so for seven days I drifted along the dreary deep. 
Then, on the seventh night, when I lay well-nigh distraught for 
want of food and drink, I felt the boat strike sand and come to 
anchor, and I alighted near the enchanted castle of Carbonek. 
Steps led from the sea up to the great entrance way, but on either 
side of the gate a huge lion stood on guard. However, I was 
determined to enter, and so, grasping my sword firmly, I sprang 
toward them. Like a flash they reared themselves on their hind 
legs and gripped me by the shoulders, one on either side; but 
before I could smite them, a voice cried: "Doubt not, go for- 
ward; If thou doubtest, the beasts will tear thee piecemeal." My 
sword was then dashed violently to the ground, and I passed on 
Into the empty castle hall, flooded with moonlight from a high 
window that looked upon the sea. And all through the quiet house 
sounded a sweet voice, clear as a lark's, that seemed to be sing- 
ing In the topmost eastern tower, — a voice beautiful as an angel's, 
and it drew me toward It. Half In a dream, I climbed more than 
a thousand steps, and finally came to a door, through which showed 
chinks of light, and heard the voice chanting: "Glory and joy 
and honor to our Lord, and to the Holy Vessel of the Grail." 
Here I was perhaps at the end of my Quest! In eager frenzy 
I beat upon the door and It gave way beneath my hands, then such 
a blast of light and heat, as though seven times heated in a furnace, 
smote upon me that I fell blinded and well-nigh senseless. As I 



THE SEARCH FOR THE HOLY GRAIL 145 

lay blinking and gasping, methought I saw the Holy Grail, 
shrouded In crimson samite, and around It great angel-shapes, with 
wings and shining eyes. And Indeed, but for my madness and 
my sin, and then my swooning away, I would have sworn that I 
saw it in very truth; but what I saw was veiled and covered, and 
so this Quest was not for me.' 

" There was silence in the hall for several minutes after Lance- 
lot ceased speaking and each knight stood with bowed head. Then 
Gawain, encouraged by the silence of the King, burst out recklessly 
and irreverently In his usual mad fashion: 'Truly, friend Percl- 
vale, this mad quest of thine and thy holy nun's hath driven men 
mad, even our mightiest knight of all. Never have / failed thee, 
King, in any quest of thine, nor shall I ; but herewith I swear for- 
evermore to be deafer than the blue-eyed cat and thrice as blind 
as any noonday owl to all holy virgins and their religious ecstasies.' 

"And the King made answer sternly: 'Gawain, thou art al- 
ready too blind and deaf to have desire either to see or hear; no 
need to make thy denseness greater by Idle vows. But If, indeed, 
there came a sign from Heaven, blessed are Bors, Perclvale, and 
Lancelot, for each has seen according as It was granted to each of 
them to see. And Lancelot, my friend, thou errest in saymg that 
the good and evil had so grown together In thy heart that they 
could not be dissevered; be sure that apart from thy sin, whatever 
It may be, there grows some root of nobleness. See to it, my 
friend, that the plant may bear its flower.' 

" Then the noble Arthur turned to the wretched, withered hand- 
ful of men, all that remained of his noble Order of the Round 
Table, once the very flower of the realm, and addressed them In 
a quivering voice : ' O my knights, was I too dark a prophet when 
I foretold that most of those who went forth upon the Quest would 
follow wandering fires, and be lost In the quagmire of doubt and 
empty dreams? Surely not, for scarce a tenth of those who set 
forth in such mad eagerness have returned. And out of those to 
whom the vision came, Lancelot, our greatest, will scarce believe 



146 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

he saw; another hath beheld the Holy Thing afar off, and Is con- 
tent to leave human wrongs to right themselves, and cares for 
naught but to pass his life in silent prayer; and Galahad, who alone 
has seen the vision face to face, his chair is empty, and he comes 
here no more; however, they may crown him victor in the spiritual 
city. O my knights, spake I not truly when I said the Quest was 
not for such as ye, and that our noble Order would only be sacrificed 
in vain? And some there were among ye who thought that if I, 
the King, had seen the Vision, I myself would have sworn the vow. 
But, my knights, do you not know that such could not have hap- 
pened easily, for it is the King's quest to do the duty set before him 
in the land he rules? He Is like a tiller of the soil to whom is 
allotted a portion of a field to plow, nor must he leave It till his 
work Is done. Do not think, my knights, that I, the King, have 
no visions come to me? Nay! many a time they come, by night 
and by day, until sometimes I scarce know whether this earth I 
tread be earth at all, or the air I breathe be air or vision, but still 
through all I feel the strength of my purpose to serve my God and 
Saviour, and then, when the vision Is at its highest, I know I 
shall never die, but live always. And so, my friends, I have my 
visions, and you have yours. And what we have seen, we have 
seen.' " 

So saying, the King turned away, and all that he meant none 
could tell. Only It seemed that he meant to show us that the 
truest servant of God Is he who, like himself, followed not after 
any great quest, but stayed faithfully at home and looked after 
the duties God had given him. 



CHAPTER X 

GUINEVERE 

KING ARTHUR at once raised to knighthood men to fill the 
places made vacant In his noble Order by those who had lost 
their lives in the vain search for the Grail, and for a time 
everything seemed as well as at the beginning. The knights jousted 
and tourneyed as before, they hawked and hunted, and every now 
and then rode forth and assailed the heathen who frequently broke 
over their borders ;. but, though mighty deeds were still done, and 
brave hearts still worshiped and honored the King, there was yet 
the old evil at work, spreading its poisonous growth throughout 
the land. 

The new knights were not the old, and soon faltered in their 
loyalty to the King. They were easily influenced by evil doings, 
and the King had many enemies at Court, chief among them being 
his nephew, Modred, brother to the flighty Gawain, to the noble 
Gareth, and son of Lot and Belllcent. These evil followers ex- 
cused themselves by saying that the King expected too much of 
them, but It was not so, for the King's character was not too lofty 
a standard for any man who wished to be " a stainless gentleman." 
And many grew quickly tired of their knighthood vows; others 
waged long and bitter war with the evil in their hearts, only to 
fail at last; and very few followed the King to the end, faithful 
even unto death. 

Sir Lancelot's wrestlings and struggles to uproot his sin died 
away with the vision of the Grail. He forgot all about the her- 
mit's advice and the wise counsel of the King on his return, and 
became once more the Queen's most willing slave. All men knew 
it, save the King, for no one dared tell him of the treachery, and 

147 



148 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

he loved and trusted Lancelot as of old. However, a time came 
when the thing could no longer be hidden, and it happened in 
this wise : 

Day by day Queen Guinevere came more and more to fear Sir 
Modred's fawning smile and mocking, persistent, gray eyes. She 
knew him for the cruel, ambitious man he was, and knew also that 
he hated her and Lancelot, and most of all the King, and that he 
would stop at nothing to gain his desire — the throne of Camelot. 
She knew, too, that he spied upon her, and she feared that one day 
he would track her guilt and proclaim it abroad to all men, and 
thus shame her forever. So great became her fear that she could 
not sleep at night, arud started with alarm at every shadow that 
crossed her path. Then she begged Lancelot, saying: "O 
Lancelot, If thou lovest me, go away to thine own land. I fear to 
have thee here, and to meet thee. Go away, I pray thee, until 
this smoldering scandal has had time to die away in ashes. Go, 
Lancelot, else the wily Modred will rake all forth into a blaze 
before the people and our lord, the King." 

And Lancelot, ever willing to do her least wish, consented re- 
luctantly. Therefore, they set a night when they knew the good 
King would be absent, to meet and bid farewell forever. Now 
Modred heard of this in some way, and laid his plans to entrap 
them. As Lancelot and Guinevere sat upon the Queen's couch 
In her boudoir, hand clasping hand, passion-pale In a very madness 
of farewells, there came a triumphant shout, and Modred's voice, 
crying: " Come out, traitor, you are trapped at last." Then 
Lancelot rushed forth with a roar like a wounded lion, and leaping 
upon Modred hurled him head foremost down the tower stairs, 
where he fell In a heap among his comrades, whom he had stationed 
at the foot for witnesses. 

" Alasl " sobbed the Queen, " now no sacrifice will avail. The 
end is come, and I am shamed forever." 

" Nay," said Lancelot, soothingly, striving to comfort her, " mine 
be the shame, for mine was the sin. But rise and come away with 



GUINEVERE 149 

me to my strong castle over the sea. There will I hide thee and 
protect thee from all the world, till my life shall end." 

" No, Lancelot," returned the Queen sorrowfully. " All is at 
an end, we have taken our farewells. Would to God we had taken 
them sooner, and that I might hide from myself! Say no more, 
for mine is the shame; I was a wife, but thou art unwedded. Please 
Heaven you had wedded the lily maid of Astolat and departed moons 
ago! But I must fly ere my lord Arthur returns, for great will 
be his just anger. I shall get me secretly into the convent at Alms- 
bury, and there give myself to a life of prayer, hoping to receive, 
if possible, relief from the pain and shame that suffocate me. 
And I charge thee tell no man of my whereabouts." 

So in the silence of the night the humbled Queen stole away to 
the Almsbury sanctuary, and Lancelot fled with all speed to his 
own land, and the courtiers, not knowing, thought that they had 
flown together. Loosed were all the tongues of the Court and 
talk ran high, but not one of the scandal-mongers had courage to 
tell the noble King when he returned toward morning, wearied 
out with an unfruitful quest. Quickly they bethought themselves 
of the lateness of the hour and scurried silently away to their 
chambers. 

Slowly Arthur climbed the stairs, chilled to the bone with death- 
dumb, autumn-dripping gloom, and a nameless horror fell upon 
him, some great, over-hanging evil, which smote him three-fold as 
he noted with dismay that his beloved Queen's bower was dark as 
the night around. Then a form pressed close to him and clung 
sobbing at his feet, and when he questioned " What art thou? " it 
faltered forth: " Alas, I am Dagonet, thy fool, and I shall never 
make thee smile again." 

It was but too true. Dagonet, the merry court-jester, he who 
was wont to provoke the smiles of the weary and way-worn, was 
at heart a sorrowing, disappointed man, and he felt keenly how 
deeply the thrust of unfaithfulness from wife and trusted friend 
would probe into his master's noble heart. In a moment, the ter- 



150 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

rible truth flashed upon the King, and he saw as though blazed in 
fire all that he had lately tried not to believe, for some of the 
whispers had occasionally reached his ear. With a low moan he 
turned heart-brokenly and bowed his head against the cold, silent 
wall, well-nigh bereft of reason that the two to whom he had given 
all of his mighty love, with whom he had exchanged vows of faith- 
fulness unto death, should thus prove false to him and to their God; 
nor did he give the slightest ear to the efforts at comfort which 
Dagonet, the jester, the least of all his knights, and yet the only 
one brave enough to come to him in his great trouble, essayed to 
give him. 

Meanwhile, Queen Guinevere, at the convent gates, tearfully 
pleaded for admission: "Mine enemies pursue me. O peaceful 
sisterhood, I pray ye to receive me into your fold that I may spend 
my life in prayer and pleading, for my sins are many and most bit- 
terly do I repent." 

Wrought upon by her grace and beauty, the gentle nuns con- 
sented, and at her request even forbore to ask her name. So for 
many weeks the Queen dwelt among them unknown, wrapped in 
grief, and communing only with a little maid, who, pleased by the 
strange lady's great beauty and pleasing manner, loved ever to 
hover near and wait upon her. But even in the quiet peacefulness 
of the convent the Queen did not find the oblivion and forgetful- 
ness of the world which she sought; forever and anon there floated 
through the sanctuary bits of news from the outside world, which 
the little maid loved to babble. First, after she had been there 
but a few days, the news came that the King was waging war 
against Lancelot in the fastness of his strong tower; then, and the 
Queen's very soul writhed within her, the cry was waged that while 
the King was absent. Sir Modred had leagued himself with the 
heathen and usurped the throne. 

" Woe is me ! " moaned the Queen to herself. " With what a 
hate the people and the King must hate me ! 'Tis all my fault. 
Had I been the true queen that Arthur thought me — aye! and 



GUINEVERE 151 

deserved — then might the noble Order of the Round Table still 
be bright and flourishing, and goodness, purity, and beauty be 
reigning abroad in all the land! Peace be to my soul that knew 
not, or cared not, to distinguish the false from the true! O my 
maiden," turning beseechingly to the girl loitering near, " sing, I 
pray thee, something sad and sweet enough to unlock the sorrow 
that grips my heart. Sing, that the tears may come and cool my 
burning brain ere I go mad indeed! " 

And the little maid, half frightened by the wild words and man- 
ner of her beloved lady, lifted up her sweet voice and sang: 

"Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chilli 
Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. 
Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. 

" No light had we ; for that we do repent, 
And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. 
Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. 

"No light! so late! and dark and chill the night! 
O, let us in, that we may find the light! 
Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. 

"Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet? 
O, let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet! 
No, no, too late! ye cannot enter now." 

Memories fraught with the sweetness that might have been, 
concerning the time when first she came a bride to Camelot, pressed 
upon the Queen, and she bowed her head low upon her hands and 
shook with passionate, remorseful sobs. 

" Oh, I pray you, noble lady," cried the maiden, ceasing her song 
abruptly, more alarmed than ever, " weep no more. Let my words 
comfort your sorrows, for they do not flow from evil done; right 
sure am I of that, seeing your tender grace and stateliness. Weigh 
your sorrows with the King's, my lady, and see how much less they 



152 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

be, for gone is he to wage grim war against Sir Lancelot in 
his strong castle by the sea where he holds our guilty Queen; and 
Modred, whom he left in charge of all, his own nephew, has turned 
traitor. O sweet lady, the King's grief for his own self, and his 
own Queen and realm must needs be thrice as great as any grief of 
ours ! Think, no matter how much he may desire to weep In 
silence, as we do here in quiet Almsbury, he cannot, for he is King, 
and all the world knows his grief and shame. He could not veil 
his Queen's wickedness if he would." 

"Sweet Heaven!" thought the Queen, "will the child kill me 
with her Innocent talk? " But aloud she answered, " Must not I, 
If the false traitor has displeased his lord, grieve in common with 
all his realm? " 

" Yea," replied the maiden sadly. " It is a grief for all women 
that she Is a woman, whose disloyal life hath wrought confusion in 
the Round Table which good King Arthur founded long years ago, 
with signs and miracles and wonders, at Camelot, ere the Queen 
came." 

The Queen writhed in anguish, as one upon a rack, and queried 
bitterly: " O little maid, shut in by nunnery walls, what canst thou 
know of kings and Round Tables, of signs and wonders, except 
it be the signs and simple miracles of the sanctuary? " 

" O my lady," answered the girl quickly, " I have not always 
lived here. My father was a friend of Arthur and rode to Came- 
lot from Lyonesse to be knighted at the founding of the Order. 
He told me many wonderful things, for in those days the land was 
full of signs and miracles straight from Heaven. He said that 
when he reached the turning, an hour, or perhaps two, after sun- 
set, he looked back in farewell along the coast toward Lyonesse and 
saw white-clad spirits spring forth, with beacon-stars upon their 
heads and wild sea-light about their feet, until all the headlands 
shone In flame like the rich heart of the west. And In the light the 
white mermaiden swam, and strong man-breasted things stood from 
the sea, and sent a deep sea-voice through all the land, to which the 



GUINEVERE 153 

echoes made answer like a distant sounding horn. And further- 
more, the next morning, as he passed through dim-lit woods, he 
beheld three spirits mad with joy come dashing down on a tall way- 
side flower, that shoolc beneath their weight as a thistle shakes when 
three gray linnets wrangle for the seed. And in the evenings, the 
flickering fairy circle wheeled and broke in front of him, then flew 
and linked and broke again, and ever sped before him. And when 
at last he arrived at Camelot, a wreath of airy dancers hand in hand 
swung round the lighted lantern in the hall; and there was spread 
such a feast as never man had dreamed; for every knight was 
served with what he longed for most by hands unseen, and down in 
the cellars merry bloated things shouldered the spigot while the 
wine ran high. This you see was Arthur's realm, my lady, before 
the coming of the sinful Queen." 

" Aye," said the Queen, still bitterly, " if they were all so happy, 
and the land so full of signs, why was not some miracle shown fore- 
telling the doom in store if Guinevere came into the land? Why 
did not thy wise father, who was so apt in reading signs, foresee 
this?" 

•• O my lady," exclaimed the girl softly, " such wisdom was far 
beyond my gentle father. But there was one, a bard, well-skilled 
in making songs, who sang before the knights a glorious song of 
Arthur's wars, picturing the King as more than man, and railing 
at those who called him the false son of Gorlois. — For no man 
knows, my lady, from whence Arthur came. He was found one 
morning, after a great tempest, a naked child upon the sands of 
dark Tintagil by the Cornish sea. And they fostered him, and he 
grew up, and was proven the true King by a miracle, and so 
crowned. — The bard wove in all of this, my lady, and said that 
the King's grave, like his birth, should be a mystery from all men. 
Furthermore, he said that if the King could find a woman as great 
in her womanhood as he was in his manhood, they two might change 
the world. Then, in the midst of his song, he faltered and turned 
pale and well-nigh swooned away, and when he was recovered 



154 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

would sing no more, neither would he tell to any one his vision — 
but, can you doubt, my lady, that he did not foresee the evil work 
of Lancelot and the Queen? " 

"Lo!" thought the Queen miserably, "our simple-seeming 
abbess and the nuns have found me out, and have sent this maiden 
to play upon me." Whereat she bowed her head in her hands and 
spoke no more. 

" Ah, sweet lady," murmured the maiden, breaking the silence, 
for to her, silence was made only to be broken, " have I vexed thee 
with my garrulous talk? If so, bid me be silent; for I do not 
wish to be a prattler and vex my father's memory — my father who 
was ever the noblest in manners, though indeed he would have it 
that Sir Lancelot's was the nobler. Pray check me, lady, if I ask 
amiss, but when you moved at Court — for I know by your grace 
and beauty you must sometime have dwelt in the halls of Arthur 
— which was the noblest, Lancelot or our lord the King? " 

Whiter, if possible, than before grew the Queen's sad face, but 
she made answer composedly: " Sir Lancelot, as became a noble 
knight, was gracious to all ladies, and in open battle or in the 
tourney-field always forebore to press his own advantage; and the 
King also did the same, and these two were the most noble man- 
nered men of all; for manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal 
nature and of noble mind." 

" If so," observed the maiden musingly, " then Lancelot must in 
truth be a thousand-fold less noble than his King, for, as rumor has 
It, he Is the most disloyal friend in all the world." 

" Aye, maiden," replied the Queen mournfully, " closed about by 
narrowing nunnery walls, thou knowest little of the world's lights 
and shadows, or of Its wealth and woes. If ever Lancelot, that 
most noble knight, were for one hour less noble than himself, pray 
for him that he escapes the doom of fire, and weep for her who drew 
him to his doom." 

" I do indeed pray for both, sweet lady," answered the novice 
earnestly. " But I could as soon believe Sir Lancelot as noble as 



GUINEVERE 155 

his King as that you, my lady, could be as sinful as the hiding 
Queen." 

So, like many another babbler, the maiden hurt where she would 
soothe, and harmed where she would heal. But her last words 
proved a straw too many, and the Queen's anger broke beneath 
the load. 

"Traitress! " stormed Guinevere, with flushing face and stamp- 
ing foot. " Petty spy! Tool, set upon to plague and harry me! 
May such as thou become even as the Queen. Get thee hence ! " 

The last words roused the frightened maiden, who stood before 
the Queen white as her veil and as tremulous as foam upon the 
windy beach, and she turned and fled as though pursued by 
phantoms. 

Then Guinevere sank back upon her couch, hiding her face in 
her hands, her anger gone, saying to herself reproachfully: " The 
poor child meant nothing, but my own too fearful guilt betrays 
itself. Heaven help me, for surely I repent ! And what is true 
repentance but in thought — never again to think of the things that 
made the past so pleasant? And I have sworn never to see him 
more — never to see his face again. Ah, me ! " 

So sighing, and off her guard for the moment, the Queen's 
memory, from old habit, slipped back to the days when she had 
first met Sir Lancelot. How noble and true he had seemed when 
he came that day, reputed the best and goodliest man in the hall 
of Arthur, to act as ambassador to his King, and lead her forth to 
be a bride — the bride of the great King, Arthur Pendragon, 
whom as yet she had not seen ! How pleasant was the trip through 
the leafy woods and over the blossoming fields, where the mating 
birds sang joyously, and all the heavens seemed upbreaking through 
the earth! How she had enjoyed the company of the handsome, 
brilliant knight, and how pleasant had been their talk of sport and 
field and all the sweet thoughts of youth! Ah, me! if life could 
have been one long ramble over blue hyacinths and 'neath whisper- 
ing pines by the side of the courtly dark-haired Lancelot; if they 



1^6 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

could have wandered for aye and never come near the great, golden 
Pendragonship and the waiting, golden-haired King, who had 
proven such a high, self-contained lover! For Guinevere had 
never loved her husband. Hers was then a soul incapable of un- 
derstanding the great height and purity he had reached, and she 
had early tired of his loftly ideals. 

So she sat immersed in trance, moving through the past uncon- 
sciously, till on a sudden rang a cry throughout the quiet nunnery: 
"The King! The King!" Stricken stiff, the Queen listened to 
the mailed feet as they rang along the corridor, then fell from her 
seat prone upon the floor and veiled her face in her white arms, 
her golden hair unbound and floating all about her. Not once 
did the feet pause until they reached her side, then came a long 
silence, and at last, when she felt she could bear the suspense no 
longer, a voice spoke, so low, monotonous, hollow, and changed, 
that she scarce knew it for her lord's: 

" Liest thou here so low, the child of one I honored, dead before 
thy shame? Well it is that no child is born of thee! Thine off- 
spring are sword and fire, red ruin and the breaking up of laws, 
the craft of kindred and the godless hosts of heathen swarming 
o'er the Northern Sea! Knowest thou from whence I have come? 
From waging bitter war with Lancelot, my mightiest knight and 
erstwhile brother; and he that did not hesitate to smite me in the 
worst way, had yet the grace of courtesy left in him to stay his hand 
against the King who made him knight. But many a noble knight 
was slain, and all Lancelot's kith and kin have gone to abide with 
him; Modred has raised a revolt with many more who have chosen 
to forget their troth and fealty and cleave unto him, so I have only 
a remnant of my once glorious Round Table remaining. But of 
this remnant who still love and serve me I will spare enough to 
guard thee safely here, for there are wild times in store for the 
land. 

" Unless ancient prophecies err, I march now to meet my doom, 
as it has been foretold that one of mine own blood shall overthrow 



GUINEVERE 157 

me. But thou hast not made my life so sweet to me that I, the 
King, should greatly care to live, for thou hast spoilt the purpose 
of my life. Oh, Guinevere, I was first of all the kings to raise the 
knight errantry of the realm and bind them into one company, the 
fair Order of the Round Table, a glorious band composed of the 
flower of men, and one well-fitted to serve as a model for the mighty 
world. I bound them to me with vows strait and severe; I made 
them lay their hands in mine and swear to reverence the King, as 
if he were their conscience, and their conscience as their King; to- 
break the heathen and uphold the Christ; to ride abroad redressing 
human wrongs; to speak no slander, no, nor listen to it; to honor 
their own word as if their God's, and lead sweet lives of purest 
chastity; to love one maiden only, cleave to her, and worship her 
with years of noble deeds, for I know of no more subtle master 
under heaven than a loving maiden to keep down the base in man 
and teach him high thought, amiable words, courtliness, desire for 
fame, and all that makes a man. And Guinevere, all this throve 
before I wedded thee, believing thee one to feel my purpose and be 
a true helpmate. But thy shameful sin with Lancelot corrupted 
all my Court, and smote all that my heart most desired; so that 
now I care not greatly if I lose my life. Think how sad it would 
be for me to sit within my lonely halls missing my noble knights 
and their accustomed tales of goodly deeds, as in the golden days 
before thy sm; and at Camelot and Uskthy darkened bowers would 
ever speak of thee and I should always hear thy light footfalls on 
the stairs and see thy shadow glide from room to room. For, 
Guinevere, think not because thou didst not love thy lord, that he 
has wholly lost his love for thee. I am not made of so slight ele- 
ments, yet I must leave thee, woman, to thy shame. Better the 
King's waste hearth and aching heart, than thou re-seated in thy 
place of light, the mockery of my people and their bane ! " 

For a moment the King paused, his voice too choked for speech,, 
and the miserable Queen crept forward and laid her hands about his 
feet, but she did not speak or unveil her saddened, tear-swept face. 



158 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

The King had no idea of the great sea of remorse and repentance 
that seethed in her soul and paralyzed her tongue. In the distance 
a solitary trumpet blew, and the waiting war-horse below neighed 
joyfully, as though recognizing the voice of a friend. The sound 
roused the King, and he continued sorrowfully: — 

" Yet think not, Guinevere, that I have come to curse thee. I, 
whose vast pity almost makes me die to see thee laying thy golden 
head, that was once my pride, at my feet. Past is my flaming 
wrath and the pangs which made my tears burn, and lo, I forgive 
thee, as Eternal God forgives! Do thou for thine own soul the 
rest. 

" But how shall I take leave of all I loved? O golden hair, 
with which I used to play, not knowing! O beautiful womanhood 
— a kingdom's curse to Camelot! I cannot touch thy lips, they 
are not mine, but Lancelot's; nay, they never were the King's. I 
cannot take thy hand; that too is flesh, and in the flesh thou hast 
sinned. Nevertheless, O Guinevere, in spite of all, I love thee 
still! Let no man dream but that I love thee still! Perchance, 
if so thou purify thy soul and lean on our fair father Christ, here- 
after in that world where all are pure we two may meet before high 
God, and thou wilt spring to me, and claim me thine, and know I 
am thy husband. Leave me this last hope, I charge thee. 

" Now I must get me hence. Through the thick night I hear 
the trumpet blow. They summon me, their King, to lead to a 
great battle in the West, where I must strike against the man they 
call my sister's son — no kin of mine, who leagues with Lords of 
the White Horse, heathen and traitor knight! But I shall strike 
him dead, and meet myself with mine own mysterious doom, con- 
cerning which you shall hear in due time. Hither I shall never 
come again, never see thee more — Farewell ! " 

Then Guinevere felt the King's breath upon her neck, and knew 
that he bent low over her and spread his hands in unspoken blessing. 
Choking with sobs he turned and passed from the room, and still 
the heartbroken Queen made no sign. Low she groveled in 



GUINEVERE 159 

despair till the last faint sound of the mailed feet had passed; 
then suddenly sprang into life, consumed with the desire to see his 
face and yet herself keep hidden. And lo! the King sat on his 
horse beneath her window, and round him was a group of nuns, 
each with a candle, listening eagerly, with glad compliance, to his 
charges concerning his beloved Queen, and how they were to guard 
and foster her forevermore. And as he spake to them his helm 
was lowered so that his face, which then was as an angel's was 
hidden from her; while above him, in his crest, the great Dragon 
of the Pendragonship blazed so brightly that all the night seemed 
a stream of fire, and the moony vapor rolled about the King and 
wound him in a sea of mist until his very form was hidden from the 
sight of her who gazed so yearningly. Then the blameless, white 
King moved away ghostlike to his doom, and the Queen's numbed 
tongue made a great effort at speech. 

" O Arthur," she called, extending her arms toward him beseech- 
ingly, but so hoarse and faint was her voice that it carried not even 
to the nuns below, and they gazed after the noble form of their 
King, unmindful of the stricken woman above them, who well-nigh 
died as the great remorseful waves of her sin swept over her, and 
she realized at last what Arthur was, and knew, too, that she loved 
him better than all else on earth. Who can measure the despair 
that was hers as she gazed in the direction her lord had gone? 
Only those, perhaps, who have drained to the dregs the bitter 
draught Too Late. 

" Gone, my lord," she moaned. " Gone through my sin, to slay 
and to be slain! And he forgave me, and I could not speak! 
Sweet heaven, I should have answered him, but his mercy choked 
me. How can it be farewell? Gone, my lord the King, my own 
true lord! But how dare I call him mine? The shadow of Lance- 
lot cleaves to me, and the King called me polluted. Woe is me! 
What shall I do? . . . Shall I kill myself? But what help 
in that? I cannot kill my sin, if soul be soul, nor can I kill my 
shame; no, nor by living can I live it down. The days will grow 



i6o THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

to weeks, the weeks to months, the months will add themselves and 
make the years, the years will roll into the centuries, and mine will 
ever be a name of scorn. I must not dwell on the defeat of fame. 
Let the world be; but what else have I? He spoke of a hope, 
unless it be he mocked me, his hope he called it; but he never mocks, 
for mockery is the fume of little hearts. Blessed be the King, who 
hath forgiven my wickedness, and left me hope that in mine own 
heart I can live down sin, and be his noble mate hereafter in the 
heavens before high God ! 

" Ah, great and gentle Arthur, lord to whom my false pride 
would not look up, I half despised the height to which I would not, 
or could not, climb. I thought I could not breathe in that fine air, 
that pure severity of perfect light; I yearned for the warmth and 
color which Lancelot gave me, but now I see thee as thou art. 
Thou art the highest and the most human, too ! Oh, is there none 
to tell the King I love him, though so late ? Now — ere he goes 
to the battle? Sweet heaven, none! I must live so that I myself 
may tell him in that purer life; now it were too daring. Ah, my 
God, what might I not have made of thy fair world, had I but loved 
thy highest creature here? It was my duty to have loved the 
highest; it surely was my profit had I known; it would have been 
my pleasure had I seen. Always we needs must love the highest 
when we see it." 

Here some one grasped her hands in warm supplication, and 
lifting her bowed head the Queen beheld the little novice weep- 
ing at her feet. " Yea, little maid," she said softly. " Arise, 
I forgive thee willingly, for am I not forgiven? " 

Then she became aware that the holy nuns were gathered around 
her, weeping, and her heart was loosed within her, and she wept 
with them, saying: "Ye know me then, that wicked one who 
broke the vast design and purpose of the King? O shut me round 
with narrowing nunnery-walls, and keep me from the voices cry- 
ing, ' Shame ! ' Yet let me not scorn myself, for he loves me still 
— let no one dream but that he loves me still. And, holy maidens^ 



GUINEVERE i6i 

if so ye do not shudder at me nor scorn to call me sister, let me 
dwell with you. I would wear the black and white, and be a nun 
like you, — fasting with your fasts, but not feasting with your 
feasts; grieving with your griefs; not grieving at your joys but 
still not rejoicing with them; mingling with all your sacred rites. 
I would pray and be prayed for. I would do each low office of 
your holy house, — walk your dim cloister, distribute dole to poor, 
sick people, and so wear out in alms-deed and In prayer the life 
which wrought the ruin of my lord, the King." 

And it came to pass as the Queen petitioned. The nuns gladly 
took her unto themselves, and she, half hoping, half fearing, pray- 
ing always, sought to free herself from sin. Finally the good 
abbess died, and Guinevere, because of her kindly deeds, her re- 
pentant life, and noble rank, was chosen to fill her place. For 
three years she ruled wisely and well, beloved by all, and then 
passed to that better land, where sin cannot enter in, her heart 
filled with the message she meant to deliver to Arthur. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 

WHEN King Arthur rode forth from his farewell of the 
humbled Queen in the convent at Almsbury, his heart lay 
dead within him. He had lost faith in the world, and in 
himself, and, as he told the Queen, he did not greatly care to live. 
So he joined the main body of his faithful followers and moved 
with them toward that battle which was destined to take place in 
the West, and where it had been foretold that he would meet 
his doom. A great restlessness was upon him. He could not eat, 
and, though worn with the day's marches, he could not sleep, and 
spent the time listening in vain for the answer to that bitter cry 
echoed from the cross, " My God, my God, why hast thou for- 
saken me? " 

One night Sir Bedivere, the first of all the knights whom he had 
knighted, a faithful, trusty follower who never for one moment 
doubted his King, and one of the three whom Arthur sent to 
Leodogran with the request for his daughter's hand in marriage, 
being himself unable to sleep, came out and wandered among the 
pitched tents of the hosts. Something drew him near to the tent 
of his lord, and here he heard the King lamenting to himself over 
the failure of his life's work and purpose, saying that surely God 
had forsaken him, if, indeed, God cared for the world of men at 
all, for he, the King, had wrought and fought for God's cause all 
his life, and now wife, friend and people had betrayed him, and 
there was no sign that Heaven took any heed. And the heart of 
Bedivere was heavy within him, and he sought In vain for some 
comforting thought to offer. But, while he cudgeled his brains, 
Arthur himself stammered forth the words that had once given 
comfort to the Psalmist when the bitterness and heaviness of death 

162 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 163 

was upon him: " ' I shall not die, but live, and declare the works 
of the Lord.' O Christ, I pass, but shall not die." 

And the King slept, but not in peace, for there came to him, 
blown lightly along the wind, the ghost of Gawain, who was killed 
in the war with Lancelot. As the frail phantom passed, it cried 
to him : 

"Hail, King! To-morrow thou shalt pass away. Farewell! 
There is an isle of rest for thee, but I am blown along a wandering 
wind. Hollow, hollow, hollow is all delight ! " 

The King waked with a start, crying: "Who spake? 'Twas 
the voice of Gawain in the wind. Was it a dream? Or doth all 
that haunt the wastes and wilds mourn, knowing that the end of 
the Round Table is at hand? " 

Sir Bedivere made quick to answer : " My King, let pass what- 
ever will, elves and the harmless glamor of the field, for yet thou 
shalt not pass. Light was Gawain in life, and light is he in death, 
for the ghost is as the man; care not thou for dreams of him, but 
rise. I hear the steps of Modred in the West, and with him are 
many of the knights, once thine, whom thou hast loved, but who 
are now grown grosser than the heathen, spitting on their vows 
and on thee. Right well in heart they know thee for the King. 
Arise, go forth and conquer as of old 1 " 

But the King answered him sadly, saying : " Far other is this 
battle whereto we move than when we strove in youth, and brake 
the petty things, and fought with Rome. Ill doom is mine to war 
against my people and my knights. The King who fights his peo- 
ple fights himself. The stroke that strikes them dead is as my 
death to me. But let us hence, and find or feel our way through 
this blind haze, which, ever since I left one lying in the dust at 
Almsbury, hath folded the paths of the world in darkness for me." 

So the King arose and girded on his armor while it was yet 
night, and summoned his willing hosts, and by their powerful aid 
pushed the forces of Modred, league by league, back to the west- 
ern boundary of Lyonesse. Here the long mountains ended in a 



i64 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

coast of shifting sand, and beyond this was the ever-restless sea. 
The traitors could flee no more, so turned on the waste sands by 
the hungry sea and there closed with the Knights of the Round 
Table in that last " weird battle of the West." 

Arthur had fought in many a battle, but never in one like this, 
A death-white mist swept over land and sea, and chilled the blood 
of friend and foe until their hearts were cold with formless fear. 
And even on Arthur fell confusion, since he saw not whom he 
fought; for friend and foe were shadows in the mist, and friend 
slew friend not knowing whom he slew. And all fought as men 
possessed; some were haunted by visions of golden youth, others 
were met by the faces of old ghosts upon the battle-field, and in 
the mist was done many a noble, knightly deed, and also many a 
base one. All the air was filled with the crash of splintering spears 
and the shattering of helm and harness under the blows of sword 
and battle-axe, and the shouts of those who prevailed mingled with 
the shrieks of the fallen, who looked to Heaven for the Christ, and 
saw only the mist, and heard only the oaths. Insults, and blas- 
phemies of the wounded heathen and traitorous knights, the prayers 
and cries for light, and the moans of the dying. 

All day long the forces swayed and struggled, until toward even- 
ing a dead hush fell upon the scene. Then a bitter wind came 
out from the North and blew the traitorous mist aside, and the 
moon rose clear and full over the battle-field. King Arthur got 
upon his feet, pale and unsteady, and glanced searchingly over the 
field, but no man was moving there, nor was any voice, either of 
Christian or heathen, heard thereon; all was deathly still, save the 
wild waves of the ocean. For the relentless tide was coming In, 
and surged among the dead faces, swaying the helpless hands to 
and fro and tumbling the hollow helmets of the dead. And the 
King swayed and would have fallen, but for the timely hand of 
Sir Bedivere, who alone of all his once glorious Round Table 
remained by his side. 

" Ah, Bedivere," cried the King, clinging gladly to his faithful 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 165 

follower, whom he had not before observed, " thou art true and 
loyal still ! Hearest thou the voice of the sea as it beats upon the 
faces of the dead who died for me? Alas! on my heart hath 
fallen a great confusion; I know not what I am, or where I am, 
or whether I be King. Behold, I seem but King among the dead." 

" Aye," answered Bedivere boldly, " my King, King everywhere ! 
If the dead have kings, there also will I worship thee. But still 
thy life is whole, and still I live who love thee; but as for him who 
hates thee, he that brought the heathen back among us, behold 
yonder he stands unharmed, — Modred, the traitor of thy house," 
and he pointed scornfully to where Modred had lifted himself 
victoriously above a heap of slain. 

All the great King's heart was shaken by one last wild burst 
of wrath. " Call him not one of my house," he cried fiercely, 
grasping his sword, Excalibur. " No kin of mine is he who hath 
lifted up his hand against me in treachery. But thou sayest well 
in this dark hour of mine that for thee I still am King. Yea, 
I a7n the King, and thou shalt see one more deed worthy of a 
King before I go hence and am seen no more." 

Like a lion roused, he rushed upon the traitor. But Modred 
was ready and waiting, and gave him back blow for blow, in- 
flicting many grievous wounds upon his head. Then Arthur, sum- 
moning all his strength for a fatal blow, brought down Excalibur 
with mighty force and laid the rebel Modred dead at his feet, 
but he was well-nigh dead himself. 

In a trice Sir Bedivere was at the side of his fainting King, 
and bore him tenderly to a ruined chapel in a field near by. It 
«tood on a narrow strip of waste land, out of reach of the grasp- 
ing sea, which sought in vain to over-wash it from one side, while 
on the other a great mere shone brightly in the moonlight. Here 
at the foot of a broken cross, Bedivere gently laid the King and 
ministered unto him. 

Soon Arthur opened his blue eyes, and said weakly: "The 
sequel of to-day unsolders all the goodliest fellowship of famous 



i66 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

knights whereof this world holds record. They sleep — the men:. 
I loved — ," and a little later he whispered brokenly, " I perish 
by this people which I made." 

Then presently he seemed to gather strength, and roused him- 
self to talk to the sorrowful Bedivere. " Ah, Bedivere, my faith- 
ful knight and true, first and last of all my noble Round Table, 
never more shall we meet in joyous converse in the halls and 
gardens of Camelot ! All are dead, the men I loved. I made this 
realm and people, and they have been my death, though yet I 
hold by Merlin's prophecy that I shall come again to rule once 
more. But heed not thou the future. Urgent is the present need, 
for my wound is so deep that except some aid come I cannot live 
till morning. Do thou, therefore, take my good sword, Excalibur, 
which long ago was given me by the Lady of the Lake — thou re- 
memberest how the mystic arm rose up from the surface of the 
water, and gave the sword into my hand; and thou knowest also 
how Merhn bade me: 'Take thou and strike; the time to cast 
away is yet far off,' and I took it and did strike, not for my own 
glory, but for the glory of Christ, my Master; and now the time 
is at hand to cast away — therefore take Excalibur, I say, and 
haste thee to the brink of the mere, fling him therein as far as 
thou mayest, watch what befalls, and quickly bring me word again." 

" My King," answered Sir Bedivere earnestly, " it is not meet 
to leave thee here alone, for a little thing may harm a wounded 
man. Yet, if thou commandest, I can but obey. Quickly will I 
go, watch and see, and bring thee word." 

With all haste Sir Bedivere went forth from the ruined shrine, 
passing among the tombs that stood around it, where the bones 
of many mighty men lay moldering, and climbing by a rugged, 
zigzag path down the juts of pointed rock, he reached at last the 
shining levels of the lake. Here he drew the sword, Excalibur, 
and prepared to fling it into the lake. But, as he brandished it 
aloft, the moon came out from behind a cloud and sparkled in the 
keen frosty air upon the hilt, for the hilt was all encrusted wi^^^ 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 167 

gems, — 'Sapphire, topaz, diamond, and jacinth, a miracle of jewel- 
work. And Bedivere was dazzled by the blinding light, and his 
purpose wavered for he could not bring himself to cast away a 
thing so precious. Therefore, he determined to leave Excalibur 
hidden among the many-knotted waterflags that whistled stiff and 
dry beside the water's edge, and so strode slowly back to the 
wounded King. 

"Hast thou performed my mission?" questioned Arthur 
quickly. "What hast thou seen or heard?" 

And Bedivere made answer, saying: " I heard the waters lap- 
ping on the rocks, and washing among the reeds." 

" Thou hast betrayed thy nature and thy name, not rendering 
true answer like a noble knight! " cried the King faintly. " It is 
a shameful thing for men to lie. Hadst thou done as I bade thee, 
there had been some sign, either hand or voice or motion of the 
water. But now I charge thee, as thou art lief and dear to me, 
go again quickly, and spare not to fling the sword. Watch what 
thou seest and bring me word." 

So Sir Bedivere went the second time across the ridge. But 
no sooner had he drawn Excalibur from the reeds, than it again 
seemed to him to be a sin and a shame to cast away so noble a sword. 
"What good can follow if I do this thing?" he asked himself. 
" What harm If I do It not? Much harm In disobedience, doubt- 
less; but would it be greatly wrong to disobey the King, now? 
Surely he Is sick with his wound, and knows not what he says. And 
If I throw the sword away, what relic or record of my lord Is left 
to after ages? Whereas, If Excalibur Is kept stored in a King's 
treasure-house, It will be much to King Arthur's worship and honor. 
It will prove an inspiration to men in the ages to come, and folks 
will marvel at It and say, ' King Arthur's sword, wrought by the 
maiden of the Lake In nine years' time!" Therefore, he hid 
Excalibur a second time, and went slowly back to the King. 

And Arthur, breathing heavily, asked him again: "What Is 
it thou hast seen or heard?" 



i68 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" I heard the water lapping on the crag, and the long ripple 
washing In the reeds," answered Sir Bedlvere as before. 

Then was King Arthur wroth Indeed. " Ah, traitor, unkind, 
untrue ! " he cried scornfully. " Woe Is me ! Authority forgets a 
dying King. I see thee what thou art, for thou, the last of all 
my knights left to me, who should compass the love and loyal 
obedience of all, thou wouldst betray me for the sake of the precious 
hilt, either for the lust of the eyes or the lust of gold. But now, 
get thee hence once more, for though a man has twice failed In 
his duty, yet he may prosper the third time. Begone; only if 
this time thou sparest to fling Excallbur, I will arise and slay thee 
with mine own hands." 

Sir Bedlvere was filled with shame, and, rising quickly, he leaped 
down the path to the water's edge, snatched Excallbur from the 
bulrushes, and wheeling with shut eyes that he might not again be 
tempted, threw It with all his strength straight into the middle of 
the mere. Round and round the great brand flashed, making 
lightnings in the splendors of the moon, and whirling over in an 
arch like a streamer of light from the great Aurora of the North. 
But lo ! ere the sword could dip the wave, a mighty arm, clothed 
in mystic white samite, rose up from the bosom of the waters, caught 
the hilt, and, brandishing Excallbur three times, drew It under into 
the mere. Then was Sir Bedlvere filled with wonder and amaze- 
ment, and he hurried to the King. 

" Aye ! " cried Arthur, before he could find breath for speech, 
" I know by thine eyes that thou hast done my command. Tell 
me: what is It thou hast heard, or seen? " And he listened quietly 
while Sir Bedlvere told the wonder. Then he murmured heavily: 
" My end draws nigh; 'tis time that I were gone. Make broad 
thy shoulders to receive my weight, and bear me to the mere. I 
fear my wound hath taken cold, and that I shall die." 

Sir Bedlvere's eyes filled with tears, and he would have spoken 
but could find no words in which to clothe his remorse that hls^ 
disobedience should have In any way placed his lord's life in 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 169 

jeopardy. Carefully he kneeled on one knee and taking the King's 
languid hands gently in his own, drew them over his shoulders, 
and so, rising, bore him upon his own broad back down to the 
water's edge. As they came near to the great mere, all shining 
in the winter moon's radiant glow, they beheld a dusky barge mov- 
ing toward them. Dark as a funeral scarf it was, from stem to 
stern, and the decks were thronged with black-clad forms whose 
faces were hidden in black hoods. And among them were three 
queens in crowns of gold — the same three queens who often 
came to Arthur in his hour of need — and from them rose a wailing 
cry of lamentation " that shivered to the tingling stars." 

*' Place me in the barge," said the King faintly, as the vessel 
came close to the shore. 

The bold Sir Bedivere obeyed wonderingly, giving up his pre- 
cious charge to the three queens, who stretched forth eager arms 
to receive their wounded King. The tallest and fairest of the 
queens took his head in her lap and unbound his casque, and all 
three fell to chafing his hands, calling him by name, and bathing his 
white face with bitter tears. And, indeed, the sight of him was 
very piteous, so pale and blood-stained was he, with his glorious 
curls all parched with dust and hanging with clotted points, — a 
very different King from the Arthur of old who rode in shining 
armor, like a star, leading his knights to the charge in war or 
tournament ! 

Then the barge put off from the shore, and Bedivere was left 
alone. " Ah, my lord Arthur," he cried heart-brokenly, " whither 
shall I go? Where shall I hide myself? For the old days are 
dead and knightly glory Is no more; the Round Table Is gone 
forever. There have been no such times as these since the Star led 
the three Wise Men to Bethlehem. But now they are gone, and 
thou, too, art leaving me, and I — must I go forth into the dark- 
ened days and live my life among strange men who know me 
not?" 

Slowly the King answered him from the barge: " The old or- 



I70 THE STORY OF IDYLLS OF THE KING 

der changeth, yielding place to new, and God has many ways of 
accomplishing his purposes. Comfort thyself, for in me there is 
no comfort to trust in. My life's work is done, and I pray God 
to accept and purify it for Himself. And thou, if thou seest me 
no more, pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer 
than this world dreams of; it is the golden chain that links this 
earth to Heaven and the throne of God. Men are little better 
than sheep and goats, if, knowing God, they lift not their heads 
in prayer. But now farewell. I am going a long way with these 
friends of mine. My mind is all dim, but methinks I go to the 
island-valley of Avalon, where never comes hail or snow or wind- 
storms, neither does the sun's heat burn there, but all things rest 
and thrive amid wooded meadows ringed round with the summer 
sea. And there will I heal myself of my grievous wounds." 

As the King ceased speaking, the barge moved away with oar 
and sail, " like some full-breasted swan that, fluting a wild carol 
ere her death, ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood with 
swarthy webs." Long Sir Bedivere stood and gazed until the hull 
looked like one black dot against the verge of dawn, and the wail- 
ing had died away. Many memories crowded each other, but, 
chief of all, he pondered on Merlin's weird rhyme: " From the 
great deep to the great deep he goes," And he wondered whether 
Arthur would ever come again, and whether the three dark queens 
in the black barge were not the same three who had stood beside 
Arthur, clothed in light, when he was crowned King. 

Then the stillness of the winter dawn oppressed him, and he 
groaned aloud: "The King is gone." But, as he climbed the 
jutting crags, he saw, or thought he saw, away in the distance, the 
barge, a mere speck on the verge of dawn. And as he looked, 
there was borne to his ears, from the far borders of the world, a 
triumphant sound of joyful welcome, as though the people of a 
great city, with one mighty voice, were rejoicing with music and 
singing over the coming of their King. As he strained his eyes 
beneath his arched hand, the speck vanished, and the sun burst forth 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 171 

in all his glory, bringing the new year, with its new chances and 
triumphs. But Bedivere's heart was too sore for welcome, and 
he trudged away over the sands, himself also journeying into the 
unknown. 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 

IN TWELVE BOOKS 
"Flos Regum Arthurus" — Joseph of Exeter 

DEDICATION 

These to His Memory — since he With what sublime repression of him- 

held them dear, self, 

Perchance as finding there uncon- And in what limits, and how ten- 

sciously derly ; 

Some image of himself — I dedicate. Not swaying to this faction or to 

I dedicate, I consecrate with tears — that ; 

These Idylls. Not making his high place the lawless 

perch 
And indeed He seems to me Of wing'd ambitions, nor a vantage- 
Scarce other than my king's ideal ground 

knight. For pleasure; but thro' all this tract 

" Who reverenced his conscience as of years 

his king; Wearing the white flower of a blame- 

Whose glory was, redressing human less life, 

wrong; Before a thousand peering littlenesses, 

Who spake no slander, no, nor In that fierce light which beats upon 

listen'd to it; a throne, 

WTio loved one only and who clave And blackens every blot: for where 

to her — " is he. 

Her — over all whose realms to their Who dares foreshadow for an onty 

last isle, son 

Commingled with the gloom of im- A lovelier life, a more unstain'd, than 

minent war, his? 

The shadow of His loss drew like Or how should England dreaming of 

eclipse, his sons 

Darkening the world. We have lost Hope more for these than some in- 

him: he is gone: heritance 

We know him now: all narrow jeal- Of such a life, a heart, a mind as 

ousies thine, 

Are silent ; and we see him as he Thou noble Father of her Kings 

moved, to be, 

How modest, kindly, all-accomplish'd. Laborious for her people and her 

wise, poor — 



•^ 



^ 



176 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Voice in the rich dawn of an ampler Break not, for thou art Royal, but 

day — endure, 

Far-sighted summoner of War and Remembering all the beauty of that 

Waste star 

To fruitful strifes and rivalries of Which shone so close beside Thee 

peace — that ye made 

Sweet nature gilded by the gracious One light together, but has past and 

gleam leaves 

Of letters, dear to Science, dear to The Crown a lonely splendor. 

Art, May all love, 

Dear to thy land and ours, a Prince His love, unseen but felt, o'ershadow 

indeed, Thee, 

Beyond all titles, and a household The love of all Thy sons encompass 

name, Thee, 

Hereafter, thro' all times, Albert the The love of all Thy daughters cher- 

Good. ish Thee, 

The love of all Thy people comfort 
Thee, 

Break not, O woman's-heart, but Till God's love set Thee at his side 

still endure; again! 



THE COMING OF ARTHUR 

Leodogran, the King of Cameli- But man was less and less, till Arthur 

ard, came. 

Had one fair daughter, and none For first Aurelius lived and fought 

other child; and died, 

And she was fairest of all flesh on And after him King Uther fought 

earth, and died, 

Guinevere, and in her his one delight. But either fail'd to make the kingdom 

one. 
And after these King Arthur for a 

For many a petty king ere Arthur space, 

came And thro' the puissance of his Table 

Ruled in this isle, and ever waging Round, 

war Drew all their petty princedoms 

Each upon other, wasted all the land ; under him. 

And still from time to time the Their king and head, and made a 

heathen host realm, and reign'd. 
Swarm'd overseas, and harried what 

was left. 

And so there grew great tracts of And thus the land of Cameliard 

wilderness, was waste, 

Wlierein the beast was ever more and Thick with wet woods, and many a 

more, beast therein, 



THE COMING OF ARTHUR 177 

And none or few to scare or chase the For here between the man and beast 

beast; we die." 
So that wild dog, and wolf and boar 

and bear And Arthur yet had done no deed 

Came night and day, and rooted in of arms, 

the fields, But heard the call, and came: and 

And wallow'd in the gardens of the Guinevere 

King. Stood by the castle walls to watch 

And ever and anon the wolf would him pass; 

steal But since he neither wore on helm nor 

The children and devour, but now shield 

and then. The golden symbol of his kinglihood. 

Her own brood lost or dead, lent her But rode a simple knight among his 

fierce teat knights, 

To human sucklings; and the chil- And many of these in richer arms 

dren, housed than he. 

In her foul den, there at their meat She saw him not, or mark'd not, if 

would growl, she saw, 

And mock their foster-mother on four One among many, tho' his face was 

feet, bare. 

Till, straighten'd, they grew up to But Arthur, looking downward as he 

wolf-like men, past, 

Worse than the wolves. And King Felt the light of her eyes into his life 

Leodogran Smite on the sudden, yet rode on, and 

Groan'd for the Roman legions here pitch'd 

again. His tents beside the forest. Then he 

And Cassar's eagle: then his brother drave 

king, The heathen ; after, slew the beast, 

Urien, assail'd him : last a heathen and fell'd 

horde. The forest, letting in the sun, and 

Reddening the sun with smoke and made 

earth with blood. Broad pathways for the hunter and 

And on the spike that split the the knight 

mother's heart And so return'd. 
Spitting the child, brake on him, till, 

amazed. For while he linger'd there, 

He knew not whither he should turn A doubt that ever smolder'd in the 

for aid. hearts 

Of those great Lords and Barons of 
his realm 

But — for he heard of Arthur Flash'd forth and into war : for most 

newly crown'd, of these, 

Tho' not without an uproar made by Colleaguing with a score of petty 

those kings, 

Who cried, " He is not Uther's son " Made head against him, crying, 

— the King " Who is he 

Sent to him, saying, "Arise, and That he should rule us? who hath 

help us thou! proven him 



178 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

King Uther's son? for lo! we look at Have power on this dark land to 

him, lighten it, 

And find nor face nor bearing, limbs And power on this dead world to 

nor voice, make it live." 
Are like to those of Uther whom we 

knew. 

This is the son of Gorlois, not the Thereafter — as he speaks who tells 

King; the tale — 

This is the son of Anton, not the When Arthur reach'd a field-of-bat- 

King." tie bright 

With pitch'd pavilions of his foe, the 
world 

And Arthur, passing thence to bat- Was all so clear about him, that he 

tie, felt saw 

Travail, and throes and agonies of The smallest rock far on the faintest 

the life, hill, 

Desiring to be join'd with Guine- And even in high day the morning 

vere ; star. 

And thinking as he rode, " Her So when the King had set his banner 

father said broad. 

That there between the man and beast At once from either side, with 

they die. trumpet-blast. 

Shall I not lift her from this land of And shouts, and clarions shrilling 

beasts unto blood. 

Up to my throne, and side by side The long-lanced battle let their horses 

with me? run. 

What happiness to reign a lonely And now the Barons and the kings 

king, prevail'd, 

Vext — O ye stars that shudder over And now the King, as here and there 

me, that war 

earth that soundest hollow under Went swaying; but the Powers who 

me, walk the world 

Vext with waste dreams? for saving Made lightnings and great thunders 

I be join'd over him. 

To her that is the fairest under And dazed all eyes, till Arthur by 

heaven, main might, 

1 seem as nothing in the mighty And mightier of his hands with every 

world, blow, 

And cannot will my will, nor work And leading all his knighthood threw 

my work the kings 

Wholly, nor make myself in mine Carados, Urien, Cradlemont of 

own realm Wales, 

Victor and lord. But were I join'd Claudias, and Clariance of Northum- 

with her, berland, 

Then might we live together as one The King Brandagoras of Latangor, 

life. With Anguisant of Erin, Morganore, 

And reigning with one will in every- And Lot of Orkney. Then, before a 

thing voice 



THE COMING OF ARTHUR 



179 



As dreadful as the shout of one who Debating — '' How should I that am 

sees a king, 

To one who sins, and deems himself However much he holp me at mj' 

alone need, 

And all the world asleep, they Give my one daughter saving to a 

swerved and brake king, 

Flying, and Arthur call'd to stay the And a king's son ? " — lifted his voice, 

brands and call'd 

That hack'd among the flyers, "Ho! A hoary man, his chamberlain, to 

they yield! " whom 

So like a painted battle the war stood He trusted all things, and of him 

Silenced, the living quiet as the dead, required 

And in the heart of Arthur joy was His counsel: " Knowest thou aughti 



lord. 



of Arthur's birth ? " 



He laugh'd upon his warrior whom 

he loved 

And honor'd most. " Thou dost not 

doubt me King, u c- t^- u 1 1 11 

c 11 *u- u ^u u^ t i^ir Kmg, there be but two old men 

bo well tame arm hath wrought lor , , 



Then spake the hoary chamberlain 
and said. 



me to-day." 

" Sir and my liege," he cried, " the 
fire of God 

Descends upon thee in the battle- 
field: 

I know thee for my King! " Where- 
at the two. 

For each had warded either in the 
fight, 

Sware on the field of death a death- 
less love. 

And Arthur said, " Man's word is 
God in man : 

Let chance what will, I trust thee to 
the death." 

Then quickly from the foughten 

field he sent 
Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere, 
His new-made knights, to King Leo- 

dogran, 
Saying, " li I in aught have served 

thee well, 
Give me thy daughter Guinevere to 

wife." 



that know 
And each is twice as old as I ; and 

one 
Is Merlin, the wise man that ever 

served 
King Uther thro' his magic art; and 

one 
Is Merlin's master (so they call him) 

Bleys, 
Who taught him magic; but the 

scholar ran 
Before the master, and so far, that 

Bleys, 
Laid magic by, and sat him down, 

and wrote 
All things and whatsoever Merlin did 
In one great annal-book, where after- 
years 
Will learn the secret of our Arthur's 

birth." 



To whom the King Leodogran re- 
plied, 
" O friend, had I been holpen half as 

well 
By this King Arthur as by thee to- 
day, 
Whom when he heard, Leodogran Then beast and man had had their 
in heart share of me: 



i8o IDYLLS OF THE KING 

But summon here before us yet once Was wedded with a winsome wife, 

more Ygerne: 

Ulfius, and Brastias, and Bedivere." And daughters had she borne him, — 

one whereof, 

Then, when they came before him. Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, 

the King said, Bellicent, 

" I have seen the cuckoo chased by Hath ever like a loyal sister cleaved 

lesser fowl. To Arthur, — but a son she had not 
And reason in the chase: but where- borne. 

fore now And Uther cast upon her eyes of love : 

Do these your lords stir up the heat But she, a stainless wife to Gorlois, 

of war. So loathed the bright dishonor of his 
Some calling Arthur born of Gorlois, love, 

Others of Anton ? Tell me, ye your- That Gorlois and King Uther went 

selves, to war: 

Hold ye this Arthur for King Uther's And overthrown was Gorlois and 

son? " slain. 

Then Uther in his wrath and heat 
And Ulfius and Brastias answer'd, besieged 

" Aye." Ygerne within Tintagil, where her 
Then Bedivere, the first of all his men, 

knights Seeing the mighty swarm about their 
Knighted by Arthur at his crowning, walls, 

spake — Left her and fled, and Uther enter'd 
For bold in heart and act and word in, 

was he. And there was none to call to but 
Whenever slander breathed against himself. 

the King — So, compass'd by the power of the 

King, 

" Sir, there be many rumors on this Enforced she was to wed him in her 

head : tears, 

For there be those who hate him in And with a shameful swiftness: 

their hearts, afterward, 

Call him baseborn, and since his ways Not many moons, King Uther died 

are sweet, himself, 

And theirs are bestial, hold him less Moaning and wailing for an heir to 

than man: rule 

And there be those who deem him After him, lest the realm should go to 

more than man, wrack. 

And dream he dropt from heaven: And that same night, the night of the 

but my belief new year. 

In all this matter — so ye care to By reason of the bitterness and grief 

learn — That vext his mother, all before his 
Sir, for ye know that in King Uther's time 

time Was Arthur born, and all as soon as 
The prince and warrior Gorlois, he born 

that held Deliver'd at a secret postern-gate 

Tintagil castle by the Cornish sea, To Merlin, to be holden far apart 



THE COMING OF ARTHUR i8i 

Until his hour should come; because If Arthur were the child of shame- 

the lords fulness, 

Of that fierce day were as the lords Or born the son of Gorlois, after 

of this, death, 

Wild beasts, and surely would have Or Uther's son, and born before his 

torn the child time, 
Piecemeal among them, had they Or whether there were truth in any- 
known ; for each thing 
But sought to rule for his own self Said by these three, there came to 

and hand, Cameliard, 

And many hated Uther for the sake With Gawain and young Modred, 

Of Gorlois. Wherefore Merlin took her two sons, 

the child, Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, 

And gave him to Sir Anton, an old Bellicent; 

knight Whom as he could, not as he would, 

And ancient friend of Uther; and his the King 

wife Made feast for, saying, as they sat 

JN^ursed the young prince, and rear'd at meat, 

him with her own ; " A doubtful throne is ice on summer 

And no man knew. And ever since seas. 

the lords Ye come from Arthur's court. Vic- 
Have foughten like wild beasts among tor his men 

themselves. Report him ! Yea, but ye — think 

■So that the realm has gone to wrack: ye this king — 

but now, So many those that hate him, and so 

This year, when Merlin (for his hour strong, 

had come) So few his knights, however brave 

Brought Arthur forth, and set him in they be — 

the hall. Hath body enow to hold his foemen 

Proclaiming, ' Here is Uther's heir, down .'' " 

your king,' 

A hundred voices cried, ' Away with " O King," she cried, " and I will 

him ! tell thee : few. 

No king of ours! a son of Gorlois Few, but all brave, all of one mind 

he, with him ; 

Or else the child of Anton, and no For I was near him when the savage 

king, yells 

Or else baseborn.' Yet Merlin thro' Of Uther's peerage died, and Arthur 

his craft, sat 
And while the people clamor'd for a Crown'd on the dais, and his war- 
king, riors cried, 
Had Arthur crown'd ; but after, the ' Be thou the king, and we will work 

great lords thy will 

Banded, and so brake out in open Who love thee,' Then the King in 

war." low deep tones. 

And simple words of great authority. 

Then while the King debated with Bound them by so strait vows to his 

himself own self. 



l'82 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



That when they rose, knighted from 

kneeling, some 
Were pale as at the passing of a 

ghost, 
Some flush'd, and others dazed, as 

one who wakes 
Half-blinded at the coming of a light. 

" But when he spake and cheer'd 

his Table Round 
With large, divine, and comfortable 

words, 
Beyond my tongue to tell thee — I 

beheld 
From eye to eye thro' all their Order 

flash 
A momentary likeness of the King: 
And ere it left their faces, thro' the 

cross 
And those around it and the Cruci- 
fied, 
Down from the casement over 

Arthur, smote 
Flame-color, vert and azure, in three 

rays, 
One falling upon each of three fair 

queens, 
Who stood in silence near his throne, 

the friends 
Of Arthur, gazing on him, tall, with 

bright 
Sweet faces, who will help him at his 

need. 

" And there I saw mage Merlin, 

whose vast wit 
Affld hundred winters are but as the 

hands 
Of loyal vassals toiling for their 

liege. 

" And near him stood the Lady of 
the Lake, 

Who knows a subtler magic than his 
own — 

Clothed in white samite, mystic, won- 
derful. 



She gave the King his huge cross- 

hilted sword. 
Whereby to drive the heathen out: 

a mist 
Of incense curl'd about her, and her 

face 
Wellnigh was hidden in the minster 

gloom ; 
But there was heard among the holy 

hymns 
A voice as of the waters, for she 

dwells 
Down in a deep; calm, whatsoever 

storms 
May shake the world, and when the 

surface rolls. 
Hath power to walk the waters like 

our Lord. 

" There likewise I beheld Excalibur 
Before him at his crowning borne, 

the sword 
That rose from out the bosom of the 

lake. 
And Arthur row'd across and took 

it — rich 
With jewels, elfin Urim, on the 

hilt. 
Bewildering heart and eye — the 

blade so bright 
That men are blinded by it — on one 

side, 
Graven in the oldest tongue of all 

this world, 
' Take me,' but turn the blade and 

ye shall see. 
And written in the speech yc speak 

yourself, 
' Cast me away ! ' And sad was 

Arthur's face 
Taking it, but old Merlin counsel'd 

him, 
* Take thou and strike ! the time to 

cast away 
Is yet far-off.' So this great brand 

the king 
Took, and by this will beat his foe- 
men down." 



THE COMING OF ARTHUR 183 

Thereat Leodogran rejoiced, but A mother weeping, and I hear her 

thought say. 

To sift his doubtings to the last, and ' O that ye had some brother, pretty 

ask'd, one, 

Fixing full eyes of question on her To guard thee on the rough ways of 

face, the world.' " 
^' The swallow and the swift are near 

akin. 

But thou art closer to this noble " Aye," said the King, " and hear 

prince, ye such a cry? 

Being his own dear sister;" and she But when did Arthur chance upon 

said, thee first? " 
" Daughter of GorloTs and Ygerne 

am I; " " O King! " she cried, " and 1 will 

''And therefore Arthur's sister?" tell thee true: 

ask'd the King. He found me first when yet a little 

She answer'd, '' These be secret maid : 

things," and sign'd Beaten I had been for a little fault 

To those two sons to pass, and let Whereof I was not guilty ; and out I 

them be. ran 

And Gawain went, and breaking into And Hung myself down on a bank of 

song heath. 

Sprang out, and follow'd by his fly- And hated this fair world and all 

ing hair therein. 

Ran like a colt, and leapt at all he And wept, and wish'd that I were 

saw : dead ; and he — 

But Modred laid his ear beside the I know not whether of himself he 

doors, came, 

And there half-heard ; the same that Or brought by Merlin, who, they 

afterward say, can walk 

Struck for the throne, and striking Unseen at pleasure — he was at my 

found his doom. side, 

And spake sweet words, and com- 

And then the Queen made answer, forted my heart, 

" What know I ? And dried my tears, being a child 

For dark my mother was in eyes and with me. 

hair And many a time he came, and ever- 

And dark in hair and eyes am I ; and more 

dark As I grew greater grew with me ; 

Was Gorlois, yea and dark was and sad 

Uther, too, At times he seem'd, and sad with him 

Wellnigh to blackness; but this King w^as I, 

is fair Stern too at times, and then I loved 

Beyond the race of Britons and of him not, 

men. But sweet again, and then I loved 

Moreover, always in my mind I hear him well. 

A cry from out the dawning of my And now of late I see him less and 

life, less. 



i84 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

But those first days had golden hours And full of voices, slowly rose and 

for me, plunged 

For then I surely thought he would Roaring, and all the wave was in a 

be king. flame: 

And down the wave and in the flame 
was borne 

" But let me tell thee now another A naked babe, and rode to Merlin's 

tale : feet. 

For Bleys, our Merlin's master, as Who stoopt and caught the babe, and 

they say, cried 'The King! 

Died but of late, and sent his cry to Here is an heir for Uther! ' And 

me, the fringe 

To hear him speak before he left his Of that great breaker, sweeping up 

life. the strand. 

Shrunk like a fairy changeling lay Lash'd at the wizard as he spake the 

the mage; word. 

And when I enter'd told me that And all at once all round him rose 

himself in fire. 

And Merlin ever served about the So that the child and he were clothed 

King, in fire. 

Uther, before he died ; and on the And presently thereafter foUow'd 

night calm, 

When Uther in Tintagil past away Free sky and stars: 'And this 

Moaning and wailing for an heir, the same child,' he said, 

two ' Is he who reigns; nor could I part 

Left the still King, and passing forth in peace 

to breathe. Till this were told.' And saying 

Then from the castle gateway by the this the seer 

chasm Went thro' the strait and dreadful 

Descending thro' the dismal night — pass of death, 

a night Not ever to be question'd any more 

In which the bounds of heaven and Save on the further side ; but when 

earth were lost — I met 

Beheld, so high upon the dreary deeps Merlin, and ask'd him if these things 

It seem'd in heaven, a ship, the shape were truth — 

thereof The shining dragon and the naked 

A dragon wing'd, and all from stem child 

to stern Descending in the glory of the seas — 

Bright with a shining people on the He laugh'd as is his wont, and an- 

decks, swer'd me 

And gone as soon as seen. And then In riddling triplets of old time, and 

the two said : 
Dropt to the cove, and watch'd the 

great sea fall, 

Wave after wave, each mightier than " * Rain, rain, and sun ! a rainbow 

the last, in the sky! 

Till last, a ninth one, gathering half A j'oung man will be wiser by and 

the deep by; 




AND IN THE FLAME WAS BORNE 
A NAKED babe" 

—Page 18-}- 



THE COMING OF ARTHUR 185 

An old man's wit may wander ere Doubted, and drowsed, nodded and 

he die. slept, and saw. 

Dreaming, a slope of land that ever 

Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow on grew, , • u , ,u 

^l^g Ig^l Field after field, up to a height, the 

And truth is this to me, and that to Peak 

.|^gg. Haze-hidden, and thereon a phantom 

And truth or clothed or naked let it ^\"S, . , . , 

L Now looming, and now lost ; and on 

the slope 

^ . , • I 1 1 f The sword rose, the hind fell, the 

Rain, sun, and rain! and the free ^^^^ ^^,^^ ^^.^^^^ 

blossom blows: Fire glimpsed ; and all the land from 

Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he ^^^^ ^^^ ^;^j^^ 

who knows:* j^^ ^^.jf^^ ^f ^^^^^ before a rolling 

From the great deep to the great deep • , 

, \\ IIIU, 

^^ S^^^" Stream'd to the peak, and mingled 

with the haze 

" So Merlin riddling anger'd me; And made it thicker; while the phan- 

but thou tom king 

Fear not to give this King thine only Sent out at times a voice ; and here 

child, _ or there 

Guinevere: so great bards of him Stood one who pointed toward the 

will sing voice, the rest 

Hereafter; and dark sayings from of Slew on and burnt, crying, " No king 

old of ours, 

Ranging and ringing thro' the minds No son of Uther, and no king of 

of men, ^ ^ ours; " 

And echo'd by old folk beside their Xill with a wink his dream was 

fires changed, the haze 

For comfort after their wage-work Descended, and the solid earth be- 

is done, ^ came 

Speak of the King; and Merlin in As nothing, but the King stood out 

our time in heaven. 

Hath spoken also, not in jest, and Crown'd. And Leodogran awoke, 

sworn and sent 

Tho' men may wound him that he Ulfius, and Brastias and Bedivere, 

will not die, Back to the court of Arthur answer- 
But pass, again to come; and then or Jng yea. 

now 

Utterly smite the heathen underfoot, Then Arthur charged his warrior 

Till these and all men hail him for whom he loved 

their king." And honor'd most. Sir Lancelot, to 

ride forth 

She spake and King Leodogran re- And bring the Queen ; — and watch'd 

joiced, bim from the gates. 

But musing " Shall I answer yea or And Lancelot past away among the 

nay?" flowers, 



1 86 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



(For then was latter April) and re- 

turn'd 
Among the flowers, in May, with 

Guinevere. 
To whom arrived, bj' Dubric the 

high saint, 
Chief of the church in Britain, and 

before 
The stateliest of her altar-shrines, the 

King 
That morn was married, while in 

stainless white, 
The fair beginners of a nobler 

time. 
And glorying in their vows and him, 

his knights 
Stood round him, and rejoicing in his 

joy. 
Far shone the fields of May thro' open 

door, 
The sacred altar blossom'd white with 

May, 
The Sun of May descended on their 

King, 
They gazed on all earth's beauty in 

their Queen, 
Roll'd incense, and there past along 

the hymns 
A voice as of the waters, while the 

two 
Sware at the shrine of Christ a 

deathless love: 
And Arthur said, " Behold, thy doom 

is mine. 
Let chance what will, I love thee to 

the death ! " 
To whom the Queen replied with 

drooping eyes, 
" King and my lord, I love thee to 

the death ! " 
And holy Dubric spread his hands 

and spake, 
" Reign ye, and live and love, and 

make the world 
Other, and may thy Queen be one 

with thee, 
And all this Order of thy Table 

Round 



Fulfil the boundless purpose of their 
King! " 

So Dubric said ; but when they left 
the shrine 

Great Lords from Rome before the 
portal stood, 

In scornful stillness gazing as they 
past; 

Then while they paced a city all on 
fire 

With sun and cloth of gold, the trum- 
pets blew, 

And Arthur's knighthood sang be- 
fore the King: — 

" Blow trumpet, for the world is 

white with May; 
Blow trumpet, the long night hath 

roll'd awaj'! 
Blow thro' the living world — * Let 

the King reign.' 

" Shall Rome or Heathen rule in 

Arthur's realm ? 
Flash brand and lance, fall battleax 

upon helm, 
Fall battleax, and flash brand! Let 



" Strike for the King and live! his 

knights have heard 
That God hath told the King a 

secret word. 
Fall battleax, and flash brand! Let 

the King reign. 

" Blow trumpet ! he will lift us 

from the dust. 
Blow trumpet! live the strength and 

die the lust! 
Clang battleax, and clash brand ! 

Let the King reign. 

" Strike for the King and die! and 
if thou diest, 
The King is King, and ever wills the 
highest. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 187 

Clang battleax, and clash brand! But Arthur spake, " Behold, for these 

Let the King reign. have sworn 

To wage my wars, and worship me 

. , . their King; 

" Blow, for our Sun is mighty in -phe old order changeth, yielding 

his May! place to new; 

Blow, for our Sun is mightier day ^^^j ^^ ^j^^^ flgj^,. foj. quj- fair father 

by day! , u ji Christ, 

Clang battleax, and clash brand! ggging that ye be grown too weak 

Let the King reign. ^nj old 

To drive the heathen from your 

"The King will follow Christ, ^^ R^?"^^" ^^.f' „ ^ ^,^ 

and we the King No tribute will we pay: so those 

In whom high God hath breathed a S^^^^ I'^'r , ^, ...^ 

L- Drew back in wrath, and Artnur 

secret thing. ^ vu t> _ 

Fall battleax, and flash brand! Let strove with Rome. 

the King reign." ^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^.^ knighthood 

for a space 

So sang the knighthood, moving to Were all one will, and thro' that 

their hall. strength the King 

There at the banquet those great Drew in the petty princedoms under 

Lords from Rome, him. 

The slowly-fading mistress of the Fought, and in twelve great battles 

world, overcame 

Strode in, and claim'd their tribute The heathen hordes and made a 

as of yore. realm and reign'd. 



THE ROUND TABLE 

GARETH AND LYNETTE LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT THE HOLY GRAIL 

GERAINT AND ENID PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 

BALIN AND BALAN THE LAST TOURNAMENT 

MERLIN AND VIVIEN • GUINEVERE 

GARETH AND LYNETTE " How he went down," said Gareth, 

" as a false knight 
The last tall son of Lot and Belli- Or evil king before my lance if 



cent. 



lance 



And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful Were mine to use — O senseless cata- 

spring ract, 

Stared at the spate. A slender- Bearing all down in thy precipi- 

shafted Pine tancy — 

Lost footing, fell, and so was whirl'd And yet thou art but swollen with 

away. cold snows 



i88 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



And mine is living blood: thou dost 

His will, 
The Maker's, and not knowest, and 

I that know, 
Have strength and wit, in my good 

mother's hall 
Linger with vacillating obedience, 
Prison'd, and kept and coax'd and 

whistled to — 
Since the good mother holds me still 

a child! 
Good mother is bad mother unto me! 
A worse were better; yet no worse 

would I. 
Heaven yield her for it, but in me 

put force 
To weary her ears with one continu- 
ous prayer. 
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep 
In ever-highering eagle-circles up 
To the great Sun of Glory, and 

thence swoop 
Down upon all things base, and dash 

them dead, 
A knight of Arthur, working out his 

will, 
To cleanse the world. Why, Ga- 

wain, when he came 
With Modred hither in the summer- 
time, 
Ask'd me to tilt with him, the proven 

knight. 
Modred for want of worthier was the 

judge. 
Then I so shook him in the saddle, 

he said, 
' Thou hast half prevail'd against 

me,' said so — he — 
Tho' Modred biting his thin lips was 

mute. 
For he is alway sullen : what care I ? " 

And Gareth went, and hovering 

round her chair 
Ask'd, " Mother, tho' ye count me 

still the child, 
Sweet mother, do ye love the child ? " 

She laugh'd. 



" Thou art but a wild-goose to ques- 
tion it." 

" Then, mother, an }'e love the 
child," he said, 

" Being a goose and rather tame than 
wild. 

Hear the child's story." " Yea, my 
well-beloved. 

An 'twere but of the goose and golden 
eggs." 



And Gareth answer'd her with 

kindling eyes, 
" Nay, nay, good mother, but this 

egg of mine 
Was finer gold than any goose can 

lay; 
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, 

laid 
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a 

palm 
As glitters gilded in thy Book of 

Hours. 
And there w^as ever haunting round 

the palm 
A lusty youth, but poor, who often 

saw 
The splendor sparkling from aloft, 

and thought 
' An I could climb and lay my hand 

upon it. 
Then were I wealthier than a leash 

of kings." 
But ever when he reach'd a hand to 

climb. 
One, that had loved him from his 

childhood, caught 
And stay'd him, " Climb not lest 

thou break thy neck, 
I charge thee by my love," and so the 

boy. 
Sweet mother, neither clomb, nor 

brake his neck. 
But brake his very heart in pining 

for it, 
And past away." 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 189 

To whom the mother said, Albeit neither loved with that full 

" True love, sweet son, had risk'd love 

himself and climb'd, I feel for thee, nor worthy such a 

And handed down the golden treasure love : 

to him." Stay therefore thou; red berries 

charm the bird, 

And Gareth answer'd her with And thee, mine innocent, the jousts, 

kindling eyes, the wars, 

"Gold? said I gold? — aye, then. Who never knewest finger-ache, nor 

why he, or she, pang 

Or whosoe'er it was, or half the world Of wrench'd or broken limb — an 

Had ventured — had the thing I often chance 

spake of been In those brain-stunning shocks, and 

Mere gold — but this was all of that tourney-falls, 

true steel, Frights to my heart ; but stay : follow 

Whereof they forged the brand the deer 

Excalibur, By these tall firs and our fast-falling 

And lightnings play'd about it in the burns; _ 

storm, So make thy manhood mightier day 

And all the little fowl were flurried by day; 

at it Sweet is the chase: and I will seek 

And there were cries and clashings thee out 

in the nest. Some comfortable bride and fair, to 

That sent him from his senses: let grace 

me go." Thy climbing life, and cherish my 

prone year, 

Then Bellicent bemoan'd herself Till falling into Lot's forgetfulness 

and said, I know not thee, myself, nor any- 

" Hast thou no pity upon my loneli- thing. 

ness? Stay, my best son! ye are yet more 

Lo, where thy father Lot beside the boy than man," 

hearth 

Lies like a log, and all but smolder'd Then Gareth, " An ye hold me yet 

out! for child. 

For ever since when traitor to the Hear yet once more the story of the 

King child. 

He fought against him in the Barons' For, mother, there was once a Kmg, 

war, like ours. 

And Arthur gave him back his terri- The prince his heir, when tall and 

tory, marriageable. 

His age hath slowly droopt, and now Ask'd for a bride ; and thereupon the 

lies there King 

A yet-warm corpse, and yet unburi- Set two before him. One was fair, 

able, strong, arm'd — 

No more ; nor sees, nor hears, nor But to be won by force — and many 

speaks, nor knows. men 

And both thy brethren are in Arthur's Desired her ; one, good lack, no man 

hall, desired. 



190 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



And these were the conditions of the 

King: 
That save he won the first by force, 

he needs 
Must wed that other, whom no man 

desired, 
A red-faced bride who knew herself 

so vile, 
That evermore she long'd to hide her- 
self, 
Nor fronted man or woman, eye to 

eye — 
Yea — some she cleaved to, but they 

died of her. 
And one — they call'd her Fame ; 

and one, — O Mother, 
How can ye keep me tether'd to you 

— Shame. 
Man am I grown, a man's work must 

I do. 
Follow the deer? follow the Christ, 

the King, 
Live pure, speak true, right wrong, 

follow the King — 
Else, wherefore born?" 



To whom the mother said, 
" Sweet son, for there be many who 

deem him not, 
Or will not deem him, wholly proven 

King — 
Albeit in mine own heart I knew him 

King, 
When I was frequent with him in 

my youth, 
And heard him Kingly speak, and 

doubted him 
No more than he, himself; but felt 

him mine. 
Of closest kin to me: yet — wilt 

thou leave 
Thine easeful biding here, and risk 

thine all, 
Life, limbs, for one that is not proven 

King? 
Stay, till the cloud that settles round 

his birth 



Hath lifted but a little. Stay, sweet 
son." 

And Gareth answer'd quickly, 

" Not an hour. 
So that ye yield me — I will walk 

thro' fire, 
Mother, to gain it — your full leave 

to go. 
Not proven, who swept the dust of 

ruin'd Rome 
From off the threshold of the realm, 

and crush'd 
The Idolaters, and made the people 

free? 
Who should be King save him who 

makes us free ? " 

So when the Queen, who long had 

sought in vain 
To break him from the intent to 

which he grew. 
Found her son's will unwaveringly 

one, 
She answer'd craftily, " Will ye walk 

thro' fire? 
Who walks thro' fire will hardly heed 

the smoke. 
Aye, go then, an ye must: only one 

proof, 
Before thou ask the King to make 

thee knight, 
Of thine obedience and thy love to 

me. 
Thy mother, — I demand." 

And Gareth cried, 
" A hard one, or a hundred, so I go. 
Nay — quick ! the proof to prove me 
to the quick! " 

But slowly spake the mother look- 
ing at him, 

" Prince, thou shalt go disguised to 
Arthur's hall. 

And hire thyself to serve for meats 
and drinks 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 



191 



Among the scullions and the kitchen- Swept bellowing thro' the darkness 

knaves, on to dawn, 

And those that hand the dish across He rose, and out of slumber calling 

the bar. two 

Nor shalt thou tell thy name to any- That still had tended on him from 

one. his birth, 

And thou shalt serve a twelvemonth Before the wakeful mother heard 



and a day." 

For so the Queen believed that 
when her son 

Beheld his only way to glory lead 

Low down thro' villain kitchen- 
vassalage, 

Her own true Gareth was too prince- 
ly-proud 

To pass thereby; so should he rest 
with her. 

Closed in her castle from the sound 
of arms. 

Silent awhile was Gareth, then 

replied, 
" The thrall in person may be free in 

soul, 
And I shall see the jousts. Thy son 

am I, 
And since thou art my mother, must 

obey. 
I therefore yield me freely to thy 

will ; 
For hence will I, disguised, and hire 

myself 
To serve with scullions and with 

kitchen-knaves; 
Nor tell my name to any — no, not 

the King." 



him, went. 

The three were clad like tillers of 
the soil. 

Southward they set their faces. The 
birds made 

Melody on branch, and melody in 
mid air. 

The damp hill-slopes were quicken'd 
into green. 

And the live green had kindled into 
flowers, 

For it was past the time of Easter- 
day. 

So, when their feet were planted 

on the plain 
That broaden 'd toward the base of 

Camelot, 
Far off they saw the silver-misty 

morn 
Rolling her smoke about the Royal 

mount. 
That rose between the forest and the 

field. 
At times the summit of the high city 

flash'd ; 
At times the spires and turrets half- 
way down 
Prick'd thro' the mist; at times the 



great gate shone 
Gareth awhile linger'd. The moth- Only, that open'd on the field be- 
er's eye low : 

Full of the wistful fear that he would Anon, the whole fair city had dis- 

go, appear'd. 

And turning toward him wheresoe'er 

he turn'd. Then those who went with Gareth 

Perplext his outward purpose, till an were amazed, 

hour. One crying, " Let us go no further, 

When waken'd by the wind which lord. 

with full voice Here is a city of Enchanters, built 



192 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



By fairy Kings." The second echo'd 
him, 

" Lord, we have heard from our wise 
man at home 

To Northward, that this King is not 
the King, 

But only changeling out of Fairy- 
land, 

Who drave the heathen hence by 
sorcery 

And Merlin's glamour." Then the 
first again, 

*' Lord, there is no such city any- 
where. 

But all a vision." 



Gareth answer'd them 
With laughter, swearing he had gla- 
mour enow 
In his own blood, his princedom, 

youth and hopes, 
To plunge old Merlin in the Arabian 

sea; 
So push'd them all unwilling toward 

the gate. 
And there was no gate like it under 

heaven. 
For barefoot on the keystone, which 

was lined 
And rippled like an ever-fleeting 

wave. 
The Lady of the Lake stood : all her 

dress 
Wept from her sides as water flowing 

awa}' ; 
But like the cross her great and 

goodly arms 
Stretch'd under all the cornice and 

upheld : 
And drops of water fell from either 

hand ; 
And down from one a sword was 

hung, from one 
A censer, either worn with wind and 

storm ; 
And o'er her breast floated the sacred 

fish; 



And in the space to left of her, and 

right, 
Were Arthur's wars in weird devices 

done, 
New things and old co-twisted, as if 

Time 
Were nothing, so inveterately, that 

men 
Were giddy gazing there; and over 

all 
High on the top were those three 

Queens, the friends 
Of Arthur, who should help him at 

his need. 

Then those with Gareth for so 

long a space 
Stared at the figures, that at last it 

seem'd 
The dragon-boughts and elvish em- 

blemings 
Began to move, seethe, twine and 

curl : they call'd 

To Gareth, " Lord, the gateway is 

1 ■ " 
alive. 

And Gareth likewise on them fixt 

his eyes 
So long, that ev'n to him they seem'd 

to move. 
Out of the city a blast of music 

peal'd. 
Back from the gate started the three, 

to whom 
From out thereunder came an ancient 

man, 
Long-bearded, saying, " Who be ye, 

m}^ sons ? " 

Then Gareth, "We be tillers of 

the soil, 
Who leaving share in furrow come 

to see 
The glories of our King: but these, 

my men, 
(Your city moved so weirdly in the 

mist) 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 



193 



Doubt if the King be King at all, or A man should not be bound by, yet 

come the which 

From Fairyland ; and whether this be No man can keep ; but, so thou dread 

built to swear, 

By magic, and by fairy Kings and Pass not beneath this gateway, but 

Queens ; abide 

Or whether there be any city at all, Without, among the cattle of the 
Or all a vision: and this music now field. 

Hath scared them both, but tell thou For an ye heard a music, like enow 
these the truth." They are building still, seeing the city 

is built 
To music, therefore never built at 

all. 
And therefore built forever." 

Gareth spake 
Anger'd, " Old Master, reverence 

. , , . , . . thine own beard 

And solid turrets topsy-turvy m air: nrK^^ i^„i.^ „. kv .... ^ ^u 

.,, . iL -1 ^ f'^t looks as white as utter truth, 

And here is truth; but an it please 1 seem^ 



Then that old Seer made answer 

playing on him 
And saying, " Son, I have seen the 

good ship sail 
Keel upward, and mast downward, 

in the heavens, 



thee not, 
Take thou the truth as thou hast 

told it me. 
For truly as thou sayest, a Fairy 

King 
And Fairy Queens have built the 

city, son ; 
They came from out a sacred moun- 
tain-cleft 
Toward the sunrise, each with harp 

in hand. 
And built it to the music of their 

harps 



Wellnigh as long as thou art statured 

tall! 
Why mockest thou the stranger that 

hath been 
To thee fair-spoken?" 

But the Seer replied, 
" Know ye not then the Riddling of 

the Bards? 
' Confusion, and illusion, and rela- 
tion. 
Elusion, and occasion, and evasion ' ? 



And, as thou sayest, it is enchanted, I mock thee not but as thou mockest 

son, me. 

For there is nothing in it as it seems And all that see thee, for thou art 

Saving the King; tho' some there be not ^^ho 



that hold 
The King a shadow, and the city 

real: 
Yet take thou heed of him, for, so 

thou pass 
Beneath this archway, then wilt thou 

become 
A thrall to his enchantments, for the 

King 
Will bind thee by such vows, as is a Turn'd to the right, and past along 

shame the plain; 



Thou seemest, but I know thee who 

thou art. 
And now thou goest up to mock the 

King, 

Who cannot brook the shadow of any 
1 • )> 
lie, 

Unmockingly the mocker ending 
here 



194 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Whom Gareth looking after said, Throned, and delivering doom — and 

" My men, look'd no more — 

Our one white lie sits like a little But felt his young heart hammering 

ghost in his ears, 

Here on the threshold of our enter- And thought, " For this half-shadow 

prise. of a lie 

Let love be blamed for it, not she, The truthful King will doom me 

nor I : when I speak." 

Well, we will make amends." Yet pressing on, tho' all in fear to 

find 

With all good cheer Sir Gawain or Sir Modred, saw nor 

He spake and laugh'd, then enter'd one 

with his twain Nor other, but in all the listening 

Camelot, a city of shadowy palaces eyes 

And stately, rich in emblem and the Of those tall knights, that ranged 

work about the throne, 

Of ancient kings who did their days Clear honor shining like the dewy 

in stone; star 

Which Merlin's hand, the Mage at Of dawn, and faith in their great 

Arthur's court, King, with pure 

Knowing all arts, had touch'd, and Aifection, and the light of victory, 

everyv/here And glory gain'd, and evermore to 

At Arthur's ordinance, tipt with gain. 

lessening peak 

And pinnacle, and had made it spire Then came a widow crying to the 

to heaven. King, 

And ever and anon a knight would "A boon, Sir King! Thy father, 

pass Uther, reft 

Outward, or inward to the hall: his From my dead lord a field with vio- 

arms lence : 

Clash'd; and the sound was good to For howsoe'er at first he proffer'd 

Gareth's ear. gold, 

And out of bower and casement shyly Yet, for the field was pleasant in our 

glanced eyes, 

Eyes of pure women, wholesome stars We yielded not; and then he reft us 

of love; of it 

And all about a healthful people Perforce, and left us neither gold 

stept nor field." 
As in the presence of a gracious king. 

Said Arthur: "Whether would 

Then into hall Gareth ascending ye? gold or field?" 

heard To whom the woman weeping, 

A voice, the voice of Arthur, and be- " Nay my lord, 

held The field was pleasant in my hus- 

Far over heads in that long-vaulted band's eye." 

hall 

The splendor of the presence of the And Arthur, " Have thy pleasant 

King field again, 




A CITY OF SHADOWY PALACES" Page 194- 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 19S 

And thrice the gold for Uther's use "A boon, Sir King! ev'n that thou 

thereof, grant her none. 

According to the years. No boon is This railer, that hath mock'd thee in 

here, full hall — 

But justice, so thy say be proven true. None; or the wholesome boon of 

Accursed, who from the wrongs his gyve and gag." 

father did 

Would shape himself a right!" But Arthur, "We sit King, to 

help the wrong'd 

And while she past, Thro' all our realm. The woman 

Came yet another widow crying to loves her lord. 

hJm Peace to thee, woman, with thy loves 

"A boon. Sir King! Thine enemy, and hates! 

King, am I. The kings of old had doom'd thee to 

With thine own hand thou slewest the flames, 

my dear lord, Aurelius Emrys would have scourged 

A knight of Uther in the Barons' thee dead, 

war, And Uther slit thy tongue: but get 

When Lot and many another rose thee hence — 

and fought Lest that rough humor of the kings 

Against thee, saying thou wert basely of old 

born. Return upon me! Thou that art 

I held with these, and loathe to ask her kin, 

thee aught. Go likewise; lay him low and slay 

Yet lo! my husband's brother had him not, 

mv son But bring him here, that I may judge 

Thrall'd in his castle, and hath the right, 

starved him dead; According to the justice of the Kmg: 

And standeth seized of that inherit- Then, be he guilty, by that deathless 

ance King 

Which thou that slewest the sire hast Who lived and died for men, the 

left the son. man shall die." 
So tho' I scarce can ask it thee for 

hate, Then came in hall the messenger 

Grant me some knight to do the bat- of Mark, 

tie for me, A name of evil savor in the land, 

Kill the foul thief, and wreak me for The Cornish king. In either hand 

my son.' he bore , , , . „ 

What dazzled all, and shone far-ott 

Then strode a good knight for- as shines 

ward, crying to him, A field of charlock in the sudden 

"A boon, Sir King! I am her kins- sun 

nian, L Between two showers, a cloth of 

Give me to right her wrong, and palest gold, 

slay the man." Which down he laid before the 

throne, and knelt, 

Then came Sir Kay, the seneschal, Delivering, that his lord, the vassal 

and cried, king, 



196 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Was ev'n upon his way to Camelot; 

For having heard that Arthur of his 
grace 

Had made his goodly cousin, Tris- 
tram, knight, 

And, for himself was of the greater 
state, 

Being a king, he trusted his liege- 
lord 

Would yield him this large honor all 
the more; 

So pray'd him well to accept this 
cloth of gold. 

In token of true heart and fealty. 



Then Arthur cried to rend the 

cloth, to rend 
In pieces, and so cast it on the 

hearth. 
An oak-tree smolder'd there. " The 

goodly knight! 
What! shall the shield of Mark 

stand among these?" 
For, midway down the side of that 

long hall 
A stately pile, — whereof along the 

front, 
Some blazon'd, some but carven, 

and some blank. 
There ran a treble range of stony 

shields, — 
Rose, and high-arching overbrow'd 

the hearth. 
And under every shield a knight was 

named: 
For this was Arthur's custom in his 

hall ; 
When some good knight had done 

one noble deed. 
His arms were carven only; but if 

twain 
His arms were blazon'd also; but if 

none, 
The shield was blank and bare with- 
out a sign 
Saving the name beneath; and Gar- 

eth saw 



The shield of Gawain blazon'd rich 

and bright. 
And Modred's blank as death; and 

Arthur cried 
To rend the cloth and cast it on the 

hearth. 

" More like are we to reave him 

of his crown 
Than make him knight because men 

call him king. 
The kings we found, ye know we 

stay'd their hands 
From war among themselves, but left 

them kings ; 
Of whom were any bounteous, mer- 
ciful. 
Truth-speaking, brave, good livers, 

them we enroU'd 
Among us, and they sit within our 

hall. 
But Mark hath tarnish'd the great 

name of king, 
As Mark would sully the low state 

of churl: 
And, seeing he hath sent us cloth of 

gold. 
Return, and meet, and hold him 

from our eyes, 
Lest we should lap him up in cloth 

of lead. 
Silenced forever — craven — a man 

of plots. 
Craft, poisonous counsels, wayside 

ambushings — 
No fault of thine: let Kay the senes- 
chal 
Look to thy wants, and send thee 

satisfied — 
Accursed, who strikes nor lets the 

hand be seen ! " 

And many another suppliant crying 

came 
With noise of ravage wrought by 

beast and man, 
And evermore a knight would ride 

awav. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 197 

Last, Gareth leaning both hands A horse thou knowest, a man thou 

heavily dost not know: 

Down on the shoulders of the twain, Broad brows and fair, a fluent hair 

his men, and fine, 

Approach'd between them toward the High nose, a nostril large and fine. 

King, and ask'd, and hands 

"A boon, Sir King (his voice was Large, fair and fine! — Some young 

all ashamed), lad's mystery — 

For see ye not how weak and hun- But, or from sheepcot or king's hall, 

ger-worn the boy 

I seem — leaning on these? grant me Is noble-natured. Treat him with 

to serve all grace, 

For meat and drink among thy Lest he should come to shame thy 

kitchen-knaves judging of him." 
A twelvemonth and a day, nor seek 

my name. Then Kay, " What murmurest 

Hereafter I will fight." thou of mystery? 

Think ye this fellow will poison the 

To him the King, king's dish? 

"'A goodly youth and worth a Nay, for he spake too fool-like: 

goodlier boon! mystery! 

But so thou wilt no goodlier, then Tut, an the lad were noble, he had 

must Kay, ^^^ " 

The master of the meats and drinks, For horse and armor: fair and fine, 

be thine." . forsooth! 

Sir Fine-face, Sir Fair-hands? but 

Hj ^ ^u T^ see thou to it 

e rose and past: then Kay, a man ^^, , . ^ , . 

f . 1 hat thme own nneness, Lancelot, 

of mien f[ a 

Wan-sallow as the plant that feels tt / i i i 

• If Undo thee not — and leave my man 

Root-bitten by white lichen, 

So Gareth all for glory underwent 

Lo ye now. The sooty yoke of kitchen-vassalage; 

This fellow hath broken from some Ate with young lads his portion by 

Abbey, where, the door, 

God wot, he had not beef and brewis And couch'd at night with grimy 

^^ow, kitchen-knaves. 

However that might chance! but an And Lancelot ever spake him pleas- 
he work, antlv, 

Like any pigeon will I cram his crop. But Kay the seneschal, who loved him 

And sleeker shall he shine than any ^Qf 

'^^S- Would hustle and harry him, and 

labor him 

Then Lancelot standing near, " Sir Beyond his comrade of the hearth, 

Seneschal, and set 

Sleuth-hound thou knowest, and To turn the broach, draw water, or 

gray, and all the hounds; hew wood, 



198 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Or grosser tasks; and Gareth bow'd Lying or sitting round him, idle 

himself hands, 

With all obedience to the King, and Charm'd ; till Sir Kay, the seneschal, 

wrought would come 

All kind of service with a noble ease Blustering upon them, like a sudden 
That graced the lowliest act in doing wind 

it. Among dead leaves, and drive them 
And when the thralls had talk among all apart. 

themselves, Or when the thralls had sport among 
And one would praise the love that themselves, 

linkt the King So there were any trial of mastery. 

And Lancelot — how the King had He, by two yards in casting bar or 

saved his life stone 

In battle twice, and Lancelot once Was counted best; and if there 

the King's — chanced a joust. 

For Lancelot was the first in Tour- So that Sir Kay nodded him leave 

nament, to go, 

But Arthur mightiest on the battle- Would hurry thither, and when he 

field — saw the knights 

Gareth was glad. Or if some other Clash like the coming and retiring 

told, wave. 

How once the wandering forester at And the spear spring, and good 

dawn, horse reel, the boy 

Far over the blue tarns and hazy Was half beyond himself for ecstasy. 

seas, 
On Caer-Eryri's highest found the So for a month he wrought among 

King, the thralls ; 

A naked babe, of whom the Prophet But in the weeks that foUow'd, the 

spake, good Queen, 

' He passes to the Isle Avillon, Repentant of the w-ord she made him 
He passes and is heal'd and cannot swear, 

die ' — And saddening in her childless cas- 
Gareth was glad. But if their talk tie, sent, 

were foul. Between the in-crescent and de-cres- 
Then would he whistle rapid as any cent moon, 

lark, Arms for her son, and loosed him 
Or carol some old roundelay, and so from his vow. 

loud 
That first they mock'd, but, after. This, Gareth hearing from a 

reverenced him. squire of Lot 

Or Gareth telling some prodigious With whom he used to play at tour- 
tale ney once, 

Of knights, who sliced a red life- When both w-ere children, arnl in 

bubbling way lonely haunts 

Thro' twenty folds of twisted drag- Would scratch a ragged oval on the 

on held sand. 

All in a gap-mouth'd circle his good And each at either dash from either 

mates end — 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 199 

Shame never made girl redder than No mellow master of the meats and 

Gareth joy. drinks! 

He laugh'd ; he sprang. " Out of And as for love, God wot, I love not 

the smoke, at once yet, 

I leap from Satan's foot to Peter's But love I shall, God willing." 

knee — 

These news be mine, none other's — And the King 

nay, the King's— "Make thee my knight in secret? 

Descend into the city:" whereon he yea, but he, 

sought Our noblest brother, and our truest 

The Kmg alone, and found, and told man, 

^'™ ^1^- And one with me in all, he needs 

must know." 
" I have stagger'd thy strong 

Gawain in a tilt " Let Lancelot know, my King, 

For pastime; yea, he said it: joust let Lancelot know, 

^^" !• Thy noblest and thy truest ! " 
Make me thy knight — in secret! let 

my name And the King — 

Be hidd n, and give me the first quest, " But wherefore would ye men 

I spring should wonder at you? 

Like flame from ashes." Nay, rather for the sake of me, 

their King, 

Here the King's calm eye And the deed's sake my knighthood 

Fell on, and check'd, and made him do the deed, 

flush, and bow Than to be noised of." 
Lowly, to kiss his hand, who an- 

,, swer'd him, Merrily Gareth ask'd. 

Son, the good mother let me know " Have I not earn'd my cake in bak- 

thee here, fng of it? 

And sent her wish that I would yield Let be my name until I make my 

thee thine. name! 

Make thee my knight? my knights My deeds will speak: it is but for a 

are sworn to vows day." 

Of utter hardihood, utter gentleness. So with a kindly hand on Gareth's 

And, loving, utter faithfulness in arm 

l°v^> Smiled the great King, and half-un- 

And uttermost obedience to the willingly 

^'"g- Loving his lusty youthhood yielded 

to him. 

Then Gareth, lightly springing Then, after summoning Lancelot 

from his knees, privily, 

^* My King, for hardihood I can "I have given him the first quest: 

promise thee. he is not proven. 

For uttermost obedience make de- Look therefore when he calls for this 

mand in hall, 

Of whom ye gave me to, the Senes- Thou get to horse and follow him far 

chal, away. 



200 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Cover the lions on thy shield, and And comely, yea, and comelier than 

see myself. 

Far as thou mayest, he be nor ta'en She lives in Castle Perilous: a river 

nor slain." Runs in three loops about her living- 
place ; 

Then that same day there past into And o'er it are three passings, and 

the hall three knights 

A damsel of high lineage, and a brow Defend the passings, brethren, and a 

May-blossom, and a cheek of apple- fourth 

blossom, And of that four the mightiest, holds 

Hawk-eyes; and lightly was her slen- her stay'd 

der nose In her own castle, and so besieges 

Tip-tilted like the petal of a flower; her 

She into hall past with her page and To break her will, and make her wed 

cried, with him : 

And but delays his purport till thou 

" O King, for thou hast driven the send 

foe without, To do the battle with him, thy chief 

See to the foe within ! bridge, ford, man 

beset Sir Lancelot whom he trusts to over- 

By bandits, everyone that owns a throw, 

tower Then wed, with glory: but she will 

The Lord for half a league. Why not wed 

sit ye there? Save whom she lovcth, or a holy life. 

Rest would I not. Sir King, an I Now therefore have I come for 

were king, Lancelot." 
Till ev'n the lonest hold were all as 

free Then Arthur mindful of Sir 

From cursed bloodshed, as thine Gareth ask'd, 

altar-cloth " Damsel, ye know this Order lives 

From that best blood it is a sin to to crush 

spill." All wrongers of the Realm. But 

say, these four, 

"Comfort thyself," said Arthur, Who be they? What the fashion of 

" I nor mine the men? " 
Rest: so my knighthood keep the 

vows they swore, " They be of foolish fashion, O 

The wastest moorland of our realm Sir King, 

shall be The fashion of that old knight- 
Safe, damsel, as the center of this errantry 

hall. Who ride abroad, and do but what 

What is thy name? thy need?" they will; 

Courteous or bestial from the mo- 

" My name? " she said — ment, such 

" Lynette my name; noble; my need, As have nor law nor king; and three 

a knight of these 

To combat for my sister, Lyonors, Proud in their fantasy call themselves 

A lady of high lineage, of great lands, the Day, 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 



20 1 



Morning-Star, and Noon-Sun, and 
Evening-Star, 

Being strong fools; and never a whit 
more wise 

The fourth, who alway rideth arm'd 
in black, 

A huge man-beast of boundless sav- 
agery. 

He names himself the Night and 
oftener Death, 

And wears a helmet mounted with a 
skull. 

And bears a skeleton figured on his 
arms. 

To show that who may slay or scape 
the three. 

Slain by himself, shall enter endless 
night. 

And all these four be fools, but 
mighty men. 

And therefore am I come for Lance- 
lot." 

Hereat Sir Gareth call'd from 

where he rose 
A head with kindling eyes above the 

throng, 
"A boon. Sir King — this quest!" 

then — for he mark'd 
Kay near him groaning like a 

wounded bull — 
" Yea, King, thou knowest thy 

kitchen-knave am I, 
And mighty thro' thy meats and 

drinks am I, 
And I can topple over a hundred 

such. 
Thy promise, King," and Arthur 

glancing at him, 
Brought down a momentary brow. 

"Rough, sudden, 
And pardonable, worthy to be 

knight — 
Go therefore," and all hearers were 

amazed. 

But on the damsel's forehead 
shame, pride, wrath 



Slew the May-white: she lifted either 

arm, 
" Fie on thee. King! I ask'd for thy 

chief knight, 
And thou hast given me but a 

kitchen-knave." 
Then ere a man in hall could stay 

her, turn'd, 
Fled down the lane of access to the 

King, 
Took horse, descended the slope 

street, and past 
The weird white gate, and paused 

without, beside 
The field of tourney, murmuring 

" kitchen-knave." 



Now two great entries open'd 

from the hall, 
At one end one, that gave upon a 

range 
Of level pavement where the King 

would pace 
At sunrise, gazing over plain and 

wood ; 
And down from this a lordly stair- 
way sloped 
Till lost in blowing trees and tops of 

towers ; 
And out by this main doorway past 

the King. 
But one was counter to the hearth, 

and rose 
High that the highest-crested helm 

could ride 
Therethro' nor graze: and by this 

entry fled 
The damsel in her wrath, and on to 

this 
Sir Gareth strode, and saw without 

the door 
King Arthur's gift, the worth of half 

a town, 
A warhorse of the best, and near it 

stood 
The two that out of north had fol- 

low'd him: 



202 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



This bare a maiden shield, a casque; 

that held 
The horse, the spear; whereat Sir 

Gareth loosed 
A cloak that dropt from collar-bone 

to heel, 
A cloth of roughest web, and cast it 

down. 
And from it like a fuel-smother'd 

fire, 
That lookt half-dead, brake bright, 

and flash'd as those 
Dull-coated things, that making slide 

apart 
Their dusk wing-cases, all beneath 

there burns 
A jewel'd harness, ere thev pass and 

fly. 

So Gareth ere he parted flash'd in 

arms. 
Then as he donn'd the helm, and took 

the shield 
And mounted horse and graspt a 

spear, of grain 
Storm-strengthen'd on a windy site, 

and tipt 
With trenchant steel, around him 

slowly prest 
The people, while from out of 

kitchen came 
The thralls in throng, and seeing who 

had work'd 
Lustier than any, and whom they 

could but love, 
Mounted in arms, threw up their 

caps and cried, 
" God bless the King, and all his 

fellowship ! " 
And on thro' lanes of shouting 

Gareth rode 
Down the slope street, and past with- 
out the gate. 



So Gareth past with joy; but as 
the cur 
Pluckt from the cur he fights with, 
ere his cause 



Be cool'd by fighting, follows, being 

named. 
His owner, but remembers all, and 

growls 
Remembering, so Sir Kay beside the 

door 
Mutter'd in scorn of Gareth whom 

he used 
To harry and hustle. 

" Bound upon a quest 
With horse and arms — the King 

hath past his time — 
My scullion knave! Thralls to your 

work again. 
For an your fire be low ye kindle 

mine! 
Will there be dawn in West and eve 

in East? 
Begone! — my knave! — belike and 

like enow 
Some old head-blow not heeded in 

his youth 
So shook his wits they wander in his 

prime — 
Crazed! How the villain lifted up 

his voice. 
Nor shamed to bawl himself a 

kitchen-knave. 
Tut: he was tame and meek enow 

with me. 
Till peacock'd up with Lancelot's 

noticing. 
Well — I will after my loud knave, 

and learn 
Whether he know me for his master 

yet. 
Out of the smoke he came, and so my 

lance 
Hold, by God's grace, he shall into 

the mire — 
Thence, if the King awaken from 

his craze, 
Into the smoke again." 

But Lancelot said, 
" Ka}', wherefore wilt thou go 
against the King, 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 



203 



For that did never he whereon ye And look who comes behind," for 

rail, there was Kay. 

But ever meekly served the King in " Knowest thou not me? thy master? 

thee? I am Kay. 

Abide: take counsel; for this lad is We lack thee by the hearth." 
great 



And lusty, and knowing both of lance 

and sword." 
" Tut, tell not me," said Kay, "ye 

are overfine 
To mar stout knaves with foolish 

courtesies: " 
Then mounted, on thro' silent faces 

rode 
Down the slope city, and out beyond 

the gate. 



And Gareth to him, 
" Master no more ! too well I know 

thee, aye — 
The most ungentle knight in Arthur's 

hall." 
" Have at thee then," said Kay: 

they shock'd, and Kay 
Fell shoulder-slipt, and Gareth cried 

again, 
" Lead, and I follow," and fast away 

she fled. 



But by the field of tourney linger- 
ing yet 



But after sod and shingle ceased 

Mutter'd the damsel, "Wherefore r>i-ji luu ru j 

A' A th TT" Uehmd her, and the heart of her good 



did the King 
Scorn me? for, were Sir Lancelot 
lackt, at least 



horse 

Was nigh to burst with violence of 
the beat. 



He might have yielded to me one of t» j- , ,, , , 

1 -^ rerforce she stay d, and overtaken 



spoke. 

" What doest thou, scullion, in my 
fellowship? 

Deem'st thou that I accept thee 
aught the more 

Or love thee better, that by some de- 
vice 



Who tilt for lady's love and glory 

here. 
Rather than — O sweet heaven ! O 

fie upon him — 
His kitchen-knave." 

To whom Sir Gareth drew 

(And there were none but few YuW cowardly, or by mere unhappi- 

goodlier than he) ^^^^^ 

Shining in arms, " Damsel, the quest ^hou hast overthrown and slain thv 

IS mme. master thou ! — 

Lead, and I follow." She thereat, Dish-washer and broach-turner, loon! 

^^ ^"^ — to me 

That smells a foul-flesh'd agaric in ^^^^ smellest all of kitchen as be- 

the holt, £Qj.g » 

And deems it carrion of some wood- 
land thing, " Damsel," Sir Gareth answer'd 
Or shrew, or weasel, nipt her slender gently, " say 

nose • Whate'er ye will, but whatsoe'er ye 

With petulant thumb and finger, say, 

shrilling, "Hence! I leave not till I finish this fair 
Avoid, thou smellest all of kitchen- quest, 

grease. Or die therefore." 



204 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



"Aye, wilt thou finish it? 
Sweet lord, how like a noble knight 

he talks! 
The listening rogue hath caught the 

manner of it. 
But, knave, anon thou shalt be met 

with, knave. 
And then by such a one that thou for 

all 
The kitchen brewis that was ever 

supt 
Shalt not once dare to look him in 

the face." 

" I shall assay," said Gareth with 
a smile 

That madden'd her, and away she 
flash'd again 

Down the long avenues of a bound- 
less wood. 

And Gareth, following was again be- 
knaved. 

" Sir Kitchen-knave, I have miss'd 

the only way 
Where Arthur's men are set along 

the wood ; 
The wood is nigh as full of thieves 

as leaves: 
If both be slain, I am rid of thee; 

but yet. 
Sir Scullion, canst thou use that spit 

of thine? 
Fight, an thou canst. I have miss'd 

the only way." 

So till the dusk that follow'd even- 
song 

Rode on the two, reviler and reviled; 

Then after one long slope was 
mounted, saw. 

Bowl-shaped, thro' tops of many 
thousand pines 

A gloomy-gladed hollow slowly sink 

To westward — in the deeps whereof 
a mere, 

Round as the red eye of an Eagle- 
owl, 



Under the half-dead sunset glared; 

and shouts 
Ascended, and there brake a serving- 
man 
Flying from out of the black wood, 

and crying, 
" They have bound my lord to cast 

him in the mere." 
Then Gareth, " Bound am I to right 

the wrong'd, 
But straitlier bound am I to bide 

with thee." 
And when the damsel spake con- 
temptuously, 
" Lead, and I follow," Gareth cried 

again, 
" Follow, I lead ! " so down among 

the pines 
He plunged ; and there, black- 

shadow'd nigh the mere, 
And mid-thigh-deep in bulrushes and 

reed, 
Saw six tall men hailing a seventh 

along, 
A stone about his neck to drown him 

in it. 
Three with good blows he quieted, 

but three 
Fled thro' the pines; and Gareth 

loosed the stone 
From off his neck, then in the mere 

beside 
Tumbled it; oilily bubbled up the 

mere. 
Last, Gareth loosed his bonds and 

on free feet 
Set him, a stalwart Baron, Arthur's 

friend. 



" Well that ye came, or else these 
caitiff rogues 

Had wreak'd themselves on me; 
good cause is theirs 

To hate me, for my wont hath ever 
been 

To catch my thief, and then like ver- 
min here 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 205 

Drown him, and with a stone about His towers where that day a feast 

his neck; had been 

And under this wan water many of Held in high hall, and many a viand 

them left, 

Lie rotting, but at night let go the And many a costly cate, received the 

stone, three. 

And rise, and flickering in a grimly And there they placed a peacock in 

light his pride 

Dance on the mere. Good now, ye Before the damsel, and the Baron set 

have saved a life Gareth beside her, but at once she 

Worth somewhat as the cleanser of rose. 

this wood. 

And fain would I reward thee wor- u -\/r u^l • lj- 

, . f 1, Meseems, that here is much dis- 
shipiully. 

What guerdon will ye?" r. . ^u- \ t j t? 

*= •' bettmg this knave. Lord Baron, at 

my side. 

Gareth sharply spake. Hear me — this morn I stood in 

"None! for the deed's sake have I Arthur's hall, 

done the deed. And pray'd the King would grant 

In uttermost obedience to the King. rne Lancelot 

But wilt thou yield this damsel har- To fight the brotherhood of Day and 

borage?" Night — 

The last a monster unsubduable 

Whereat the Baron saying, "I ^^ any save of him for whom I 

well believe ^^^^ " 
You be of Arthur's Table," a light Suddenly bawls this frontless kitchen- 
laugh ''"ave. 
Broke from Lynette, " Aye, truly of ' The quest is mine ; thy kitchen- 

a truth knave am I, 

And' in a' sort, being Arthur's ^nd mighty thro' thy meats and 

kitchen-knave!— ^ drinks am L' 

But deem not I accept thee aught the Then Arthur all at once gone mad 

more, ^^pl'^s, 

Scullion, for running sharplv with Go therefore, and so gives the 

thy spit ^"^^^ to him — 

Down on a rout of craven foresters. Him — here — a villain fitter to 

A thresher with his flail had scat- stick swine 

ter'd them. Than ride abroad redressing women's 

Nay — for thou smellest of the wrong, 

kitchen still. ^^ ^'^ beside a noble gentlewoman." 
But an this lord will yield us harbor- 

^S^j Then half-ashamed and part 

Well." amazed, the lord 

Now look'd at one and now at other. 

So she spake. A league bcj'ond left 

the wood, The damsel by the peacock in his 

All in a full-fair manor and a rich, pride, 



206 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



And, seating Gareth at another 

board, 
Sat down beside him, ate and then 

began. 

" Friend, whether thou be kitchen- 
knave, or not, 

Or whether it be the maiden's fan- 
tasy, 

And whether she be mad, or else the 
King, 

Or both or neither, or thyself be 
mad, 

I ask not: but thou strikest a strong 
stroke. 

For strong thou art and goodly there- 
withal, 

And saver of my life; and therefore 
now, 

For here be mighty men to joust 
with, weigh 

Whether thou wilt not with thy dam- 
sel back 

To crave again Sir Lancelot of the 
King. 

Thy pardon; I but speak for thine 
avail, 

The sayer of my life." 

And Gareth said, 
" Full pardon, but I follow up the 

quest, 
Despite of Day and Night and Death 

and Hell." 

So when, next morn, the lord 

whose life he saved 
Had, some brief space, convey'd them 

on their way 
And left them with God-speed, Sir 

Gareth spake, 
*' Lead, and I follow." Haughtily 

she replied, 

" I fly no more : I allow thee for 
an hour. 
Lfen and stoat have isled together, 
knave, 



In time of flood. Nay, furthermore, 
methinks 

Some ruth is mine for thee. Back 
wilt thou, fool? 

For hard by here is one will over- 
throw 

And slay thee: then will I to court 
again, 

And shame the King for only yield- 
ing me 

My champion from the ashes of his 
hearth." 

To whom Sir Gareth answer'd 

courteously, 
" Say thou thy say, and I will do my 

deed. 
Allow me for mine hour, and thou 

wilt find 
My fortunes all as fair as hers who 

lay 
Among the ashes and wedded the 

King's son." 

Then to the shore of one of those 

long loops 
Wherethro' the serpent river coil'd, 

they came. 
Rough-thicketed were the banks and 

steep; the stream 
Full, narrow; this a bridge of single 

arc 
Took at a leap; and on the further 

side 
Arose a silk pavilion, gay with gold 
In streaks and rays, and all Lent-Hly 

in hue, 
Save that the dome was purple, and 

above, 
Crimson, a slender banneret flutter- 
ing. 
And therebefore the lawless warrior 

paced 
Unarm'd, and calling, " Damsel, is 

this he, 
The champion thou hast brought 

from Arthur's hall? 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 207 

For whom we let thee pass." " Nay, Flee down the valley before he get to 

nay," she said, horse. 

" Sir Morning-btar. The King in Who will cry shame? Thou art not 

utter scorn knight but knave." 
Of thee and thy much folly hath sent 

thee here Said Gareth, " Damsel, whether 

His kitchen-knave: and look thou to knave or knight, 

thyself: Far liefer had I fight a score of 

See that he fall not on thee sud- times 

denly. Than hear thee so missay me and 

And slay thee unarm'd : he is not revile. 

knight but knave." Fair words were best for him who 

fights forr thee ; 

Then at his call, " O daughters of But truly foul are better, for they 

the Dawn, send 

And servants of the Morning-Star, That strength of anger thro' mine 

approach, arms, I know 

Arm me," from out the silken cur- That I shall overthrow him." 

tain-folds 

Bare-footed and bare-headed three And he that bore 

fair girls The star, when mounted, cried from 

In gilt and rosy raiment came: their o'er the bridge, 

feet " A kitchen-knave, and sent in scorn 

In dewy grasses glisten'd ; and the of me! 

hair Such fight not I, but answer scorn 

All over glanced with dewdrop or with scorn. 

with gem For this were shame to do him 

Like sparkles in the stone Avanturine. further wrong 

These arm'd him in blue arms, and Than set him on his feet, and take 

gave a shield his horse 

Blue also, and thereon the morning And arms, and so return him to the 

star. King. 

And Gareth silent gazed upon the Come, therefore, leave thy lady 

knight, lightly, knave. 

Who stood a moment, ere his horse Avoid : for it beseemeth not a knave 

was brought. To ride with such a lady." 
Glorying; and in the stream beneath 

him, shone " Dog, thou liest, 

Immingled with Heaven's azure I spring from loftier lineage than 

waveringly, ■ thine o\^•n." 

The gay pavilion and the naked feet. He spake ; and all at fiery speed the 

His arms, the rosy raiment, and the two 

star. Shock'd on the central bridge, and 

either spear 

Then she that watch'd him, Bent but not brake, and either knight 

" Wherefore stare ye so ? at once. 

Thou shakest In thy fear: there yet Hurl'd as a stone from out of a 

is time: catapult 



208 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Beyond his horse's crupper and the 

bridge, 
Fell, as if dead ; but quickly rose and 

drew. 
And Gareth lash'd so fiercely with 

his brand 
He drave his enemy backward down 

the bridge, 
The damsel crying, " Well-stricken, 

kitchen-knave! " 
Till Gareth's shield was cloven ; but 

one stroke 
Laid him that clove it groveling on 

the ground. 



Then cried the fall'n, " Take not 

my life: I yield." 
And Gareth, " So this damsel ask it 

of me 
Good — I accord it easily as a 

grace." 
She reddening, " Insolent scullion : I 

of thee? 
I bound to thee for any favor 

ask'd ! " 
*' Then shall he die." And Gareth 

there unlaced 
His helmet as to slay him, but she 

shriek'd, 
*' Be not so hardy, scullion, as to slay 
One nobler than thyself." " Dam- 
sel, thy charge 
Is an abounding pleasure to me. 

Knight, 
Thy life is thine at her command. 

Arise 
And quickly pass to Arthur's hall, 

and say 
His kitchen-knave hath sent thee. 

See thou crave 
His pardon for thy breaking of his 

laws. 
Myself, when I return, will plead for 

thee. 
Thy shield is mine — farewell ; and, 

damsel, thou, 
Lead, and I follow." 



And fast away she fled. 
Then when he came upon her, spake, 

" Methought, 
Knave, when I watch'd thee striking 

on the bridge 
The savor of thy kitchen came upon 

me 
A little faintlier: but the wind hath 

changed : 
I scent it twenty-fold." And then 

she sang, 
"'O morning star' (not that tall 

felon there 
Whom thou by sorcery or unhappi- 

ness 
Or some device, hast foully over- 
thrown), 
* O morning star that smilest in the 

blue, 
O star, my morning dream hath 

proven true, 
Smile sweetly, thou! my love hath 

smiled on me.' 

" But thou begone, take counsel, 

and away, 
For hard by here is one that guards 

a ford — 
The second brother in their fool's 

parable — 
Will pay thee all thy wages, and to 

boot. 
Care not for shame: thou art not 

knight but knave." 

To whom Sir Gareth answer'd, 

laughingly, 
"Parables? Hear a parable of the 

knave. 
When I was kitchen-knave among 

the rest 
Fierce was the hearth, and one of my 

co-mates 
Own'd a rough dog, to whom he cast 

his coat, 
' Guard it,' and there was none to 

meddle with it. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 209 

And such a coat art thou, and thee " Here is a kitchen-knave from 

the King Arthur's hall 

Gave me to guard, and such a dog Hath overthrown thy brother, and 

am I, hath his arms." 

To worry, and not to flee — and — "Ugh!" cried the Sun, and visoring 

knight or knave — up a red 
The knave that doth thee service as And cipher face of rounded foolish- 
full knight ness, 
Is all as good, meseems, as any Push'd horse across the foamings of 

knight the ford, 

Toward thy sister's freeing." Whom Gareth met midstream: no 

room was there 

"Aye, Sir Knave! For lance or tourney-skill: four 

Aye, knave, because thou strikest as strokes they struck 

a knight, With sword, and these were mighty; 

Being but knave, I hate thee all the the new knight 

more." Had fear he might be shamed ; but as 

the Sun 

" Fair damsel, you should worship Heaved up a ponderous arm to strike 

me the more, the fifth, 

That, being but knave, I throw thine The hoof of his horse slipt in the 

enemies." stream, the stream 

Descended, and the Sun was wash'd 

" Aye, aye," she said, " but thou away. 

shalt meet thy match." 

Then Gareth laid his lance athwart 

So when they touch'd the second the ford ; 

riverloop, So drew him home; but he that 

Huge on a huge red horse, and all in fought no more, 

mail As being all bone-batter'd on the 

Burnish'd to blinding, shone the rock, 

Noonday Sun Yielded; and Gareth sent him to the 

Beyond a raging shallow. As if the King. 

flower, " Myself when I return will plead 

That blows a globe of after arrow- for thee." 

lets, " Lead, and I follow." Quietly she 

Ten thousand-fold had grown, flash'd led. 

the fierce shield, " Hath not the good wind, damsel, 

All sun ; and Gareth's eyes had flying changed again ? " 

blots " Nay, not a point: nor art thou vie- 
Before them when he turn'd from tor here. 

watching him. ^ There lies a ridge of slate across the 

He from beyond the roaring shallow ford; 

roar'd, His horse thereon stumbled — aye, 

" What doest thou, brother, in my for I saw it. 

marches here? " 

And she athwart the shallow shrill'd " ' O Sun ' (not this strong fool 

again? whom thou. Sir Knave, 



2IO IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Hast overthrown thro' mere unhappi- May-music growing with the growing 

ness), light, 

*0 Sun, that wakenest all to bliss Their sweet sun-worship? these be for 

or pain, the snare 

O moon, that layest all to sleep (So runs thy fancy) these be for the 

again, spit, 

Shine sweetly: twice my love hath Larding and basting. See thou have 

smiled on me.' not now 

Larded thy last, except thou turn and 

" What knowest thou of lovesong "Y- 

or of love? There stands the third fool of their 

Nay, nay, God wot, so thou wert allegory. 

nobly born, 
Thou hast a pleasant presence. Yea, For there beyond a bridge of 

perchance,— treble bow, 

All in a rose-red from the west, and 

all 
Naked it seem'd, and glowing in the 



O deviy flowers that open to the 



^""' b d 

O dewy flowers that close when day is „ oroaa , , , 

J Deep-dimpled current underneath, the 

Blow sweetly: twice my love hath ™, *^"ignt, 

smiled on me.' That named himself the Star of Even- 
ing, stood. 

" What knovvest thou of flowers, ^^^ q^^^^^ . Wherefore waits the 

except, belike, madman there 

To garnish meats with? hath not our ^^^^^ -^ dayshine? " " Nay," 

good King gj^g ^j.j^j 

Who lent me thee, the flower of << xr^*. i „j ' i .. • u j 'j 

, . , , ' JNot naked, only wrapt in harden d 

kitchendom, ^^-^^^ 

A foolish love for flowers? what nru„^ rr^ u*™ n u- j 

. , , 1 hat rit nim like his own and so ye 

stick ye round ^^e^^^ 

The pasty? wherewithal deck the ij.v o.-.^^.- ^« u*.^ t-u o^ mi * *u 

J Z , , ^ xlis armor oii rum, these will turn the 

boar s head ? blade." 

Flowers? nay, the boar hath rose- 

maries and bay. -^j^^^ ^^^ ^^-^^ ^^^^^^^ ^,^^^^^j 

o'er the bridge, 

" ' O birds, that warble to the " Q brother-star, why shine ye here 

morning sky, so low? 

O birds that warble as the day goes Thy ward is higher up: but have ye 

by. slain 

Sing sweetly: twice my love hath The damsel's champion?" and the 

smiled on me.' damsel cried, 

" What knowest thou of birds, " No star of thine, but shot from 

lark, mavis, merle, Arthur's heaven 

Linnet? what dream ye when they With all disaster unto thine and 

utter forth thee! 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 



211 



For both thy younger brethren have Foredooming all his trouble was In 

gone down vain, 

Before this youth ; and so wilt thou, Labor'd within him, for he seem'd 



Sir Star; 
Art thou not old ? " 



as one 
That all in later, sadder age be- 
gins 

r\Aj J 1 11 J u J To war against ill uses of a life, 
Old, damsel, old and hard, r> ^ ^i r n i • i-r • j 

, • , J 1 1 r out these from all his lite arise, and 



Old, with the might and breath of 

twenty boys." 
Said Gareth, " Old, and over-bold in 

brag! 
But that same strength which threw 

the Morning Star 
Can throw the Evening." 

Then that other blew 
A hard and deadly note upon the 

horn. 
"Approach and arm me!" With 

slow steps from out 
An old storm-beaten, russet, many- 
stain 'd 
Pavilion, forth a grizzled damsel 

came, 
And arm'd him in old arms, and 

brought a helm 
With but a drying evergreen for 

crest, 
And gave a shield whereon the Star 

of Even 
Half-tarnish'd and half-bright, his 

emblem, shone. 
But when it glitter'd o'er the saddle- 
bow. 
They madly hurl'd together on the 

bridge; 
And Gareth overthrew him, lighted, 

drew. 
There met him drawn, and overthrew 

him again. 
But up like fire he started : and as 

oft 
As Gareth brought him groveling on 

his knees. 
So many a time he vaulted up again ; 



cry, 
" Thou hast made us lords, and 

canst not put us down!" 
He half despairs; so Gareth seem'd 

to strike 
Vainly, the damsel clamoring all the 

while, 
" Well done, knave-knight, well 

stricken, O good knight- 

knave — 
O knave, as noble as any of all the 

knights — 
Shame me not, shame me not. I 

have prophesied — 
Strike, thou art worthy of the Table 

Round — 
His arms are old, he trusts the 

harden'd skin — 
Strike — strike — the wind will 

never change again." 
And Gareth hearing ever stronglier 

smote. 
And hew'd great pieces of his armor 

off him. 
But lash'd in vain against the har- 
den'd skin, 
And could not wholly bring him 

under, more 
Than loud Southwestern, rolling 

ridge on ridge. 
The buoy that rides at sea, and dips 

and springs 
For ever ; till at length Sir Gareth 's 

brand 
Clash'd his, and brake it utterly to 

the hilt. 
"I have thee now;" but forth that 

other sprang, 

Till Gareth panted hard, and his And, all unknightlike, writhed his 
great heart, wiry arms 



212 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Around him, till he felt, despite his Not fit to cope your quest. You 

mail, said your say; 

Strangled, but straining ev'n his Mine answer was my deed. Good 

uttermost sooth! I hold 

Cast, and so hurl'd him headlong o'er He scarce is knight, yea, but half- 

the bridge man, nor meet 

Down to the river, sink or swim, To fight for gentle damsel, he, who 

and cried, lets 

^' Lead, and I follow." His heart be stirr'd with any foolish 

heat 

But the damsel said, At any gentle damsel's wayward- 

" I lead no longer ; ride thou at my ness. 

side ; Shamed ? care not ! thy foul sayings 

Thou art the kingliest of all kitchen- fought for me: 

knaves. And seeing now thy words are fair, 

methinks 

" ' O trefoil, sparkling on the rainy There rides no knight, not Lancelot, 

plain, his great self, 

O rainbow with three colors after Hath force to quell me." 

rain. 

Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath ^.^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ 

smiled on me. -^^^^ ^^^ j^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ j^j^ 

,, r,- 1 1 f • 1 T f • melancholy, 
Sir, — and, good faith, 1 tain t..i u-V-i i j4.*u 
11 T 1 1 T^ • L Lets down his other leg, and stretch- 
had added — Knight, • , ^ 

T. 1 T 1 1 1 11 1 if ing, dreams 

But that 1 heard thee call thyself ^ r\c ji -^ij-** i 

, ^ Ut goodly supper in the distant pool, 

f,, , ' 'r , T L 1 J Then turn'd the noble damsel smil- 

Shamed am 1 that 1 so rebuked, re- . ^ , • 

., , ing at him, 

,,.!,', ,, T J And told him of a cavern hard at 

Missaid thee : noble 1 am ; and , , 

, , , T^. hand, 

c, , ?^^ J • J u Where bread and baken meats and 

Scorn d me and mine ; and now thy , , 

, f - , ■^ good red wine 

pardon fnend, ^^ Southland, which the Lady 

ror thou hast ever answer d court- j 

, Lyonors 

A 1 ^^V n' L 1 J L 1 1 Had sent her coming champion. 

And wholly bold thou art, and meek •. j u- 

. , / ' waited him. 
withal 

As any of Arthur's best, but, being 

knave. Anon they past a narrow comb 

Hast mazed my wit: I marvel what wherein 

thou art. Were slabs of rock with figures, 

knights on horse 
" Damsel," he said, " you be not Sculptured, and deckt in slowly- 
all to blame, waning hues. 

Saving that you mistrusted our good " Sir Knave, my knight, a hermit 

King once was here. 

Would handle scorn, or yield you. Whose holy hand hath fashion'd on 

asking, one the rock 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 213 

The war of Time against the soul of Of that skill'd spear, the wonder of 

man. the world — 

And yon four fools have sucic'd their Went sliding down so easily, and 

allegory fell. 

From these damp walls, and taken That when he found the grass with- 

but the form. in his hands 

Know ye not these?" and Gareth He laugh'd ; the laughter jarr'd 

lookt and read — upon Lynette : 

In letters like to those the vexillary Harshly she ask'd him, " Shamed 

Hath left crag-carven o'er the and overthrown, 

streaming Gelt — And tumbled back into the kitchen- 

" Phosphorus," then " Meridies " knave, 

— "Hesperus" — Why laugh ye? that ye blew your 

" Nox " — " Mors," beneath five fig- boast in vain? " 

ures, armed men, " Nay, noble damsel, but that I, the 

Slab after slab, their faces forward son 

all, Of old King Lot and good Queen 

And running down the Soul, a Shape Bellicent, 

that fled And victor of the bridges and the 

With broken wings, torn raiment ford, 

and loose hair. And knight of Arthur, here lie 

For help and shelter to the hermit's thrown by whom 

cave. I know not, all thro' mere unhappi- 

" Follow the faces, and we find it. ness — 

Look, Device and sorcery and unhappi- 

Who comes behind ? " ness — 

Out, sword ; we are thrown ! " And 

For one — delay'd at first Lancelot answer'd, " Prince, 

Thro' helping back the dislocated O Gareth — thro' the mere unhappi- 

Kay ness 

To Camelot, then by what thereafter Of one who came to help thee, not 

chanced, to harm. 

The damsel's headlong error thro' Lancelot, and all as glad to find thee 

the wood — whole. 

Sir Lancelot, having swum the river- As on the day when Arthur knighted 

loops — him." 
His blue shield-lions cover 'd — softly 

drew 

Behind the twain, and when he saw Then Gareth, " Thou — Lance- 

the star lot! — thine the hand 

Gleam, on Sir Gareth's turning to That threw me? An some chance 

him, cried, to mar the boast 

"Stay, felon knight, I avenge me Thy brethren of thee make — which 

for my friend." could not chance — 

And Gareth crying prick'd against Had sent thee down before a lesser 

the cry; spear, 

But when they closed — in a mo- Shamed had I been, and sad — O 

ment — at one touch Lancelot — thou!" 



214 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Whereat the maiden, petulant, And makest merry when overthrown^ 

" Lancelot, Prince, Knight, 

Why came ye not, when call'd ? and Hail, Knight and Prince, and of our 

wherefore now Table Round ! " 

Come ye, not call'd ? I gloried in 

my knave, And then when turning to Lyn- 

Who being still rebuked, would an- ette he told 

swer still The tale of Gareth, petulantly she 
Courteous as any knight — but now, said, 

if knight, " Aye, well — aye, well — for worse 
The marvel dies, and leaves me than being fool'd 

fool'd and trick'd. Of others, is to fool one's self. A 
And only wondering wherefore cave, 

play'd upon: Sir Lancelot, is hard by, with meats 
And doubtful whether I and mine and drinks 

be scorn'd. And forage for the horse, and flint 
Where should be truth if not in for fire. 

Arthur's hall. But all about it flies a honeysuckle. 

In Arthur's presence? Knight, Seek, till we find." And when they 

knave, prince and fool, sought and found, 

I hate thee and forever." Sir Gareth drank and ate, and ail 

his life 
Past into sleep ; on whom the maiden 
And Lancelot said, gazed. 

"Blessed be thou. Sir Gareth! "Sound sleep be thine! sound cause 

knight art thou to sleep hast thou. 

To the King's best wish. O damsel, Wake lusty! Seem I not as tender 

be you wise to him 

To call him shamed, who is but over- As any mother? Aye, but such a 

thrown? one 

Thrown have I been, nor once, but As all day long hath rated at her 

many a time. child, 

Victor from vanquish'd Issues at the And vext his day, but blesses him 

last, asleep — 

And overthrower from being over- Good lord, how sweetly smells the 

thrown. hone3'Suckle 

With sword we have not striven; In the hush'd night, as if the world 

and thy good horse were one 

And thou are weary; yet not less I Of utter peace, and love, and gentle- 
felt ness ! 

Thy manhood thro' that wearied O Lancelot, Lancelot " — and she 

lance of thine. clapt her hands — 

Well hast thou done; for all the "Full merry am I to find my goodly 

stream is freed, knave 

And thou hast wreak'd his justice on Is knight and noble. See now, 

his foes, sworn have I, 

And when reviled, hast answer'd Else yon black felon had not let me 

graciously, pass. 



GARETH AND LYNETTE 215 

To bring thee back to do the battle A star shot : " Lo," said Gareth, 

with him. "the foe falls!" 

Thus and thou goest, he will fight An owl whoopt : " Hark the victor 

thee first; pealing there!" 

Who doubts thee victor? so will my Suddenly she that rode upon his left 

knight-knave Clung to the shield that Lancelot 

Miss the full flower of this accom- lent him, crying, 

plishment." " Yield, yield him this again : 'tis he 

must fight: 

Said Lancelot, " Peradventure he, T ^urse the tongue that all thro' yes- 

you name, terday 

May know my shield. Let Gareth, Reviled thee, and hath wrought on 

an he will, Lancelot now 

Change his for mine, and take my To lend thee horse and shield : won- 

charger, fresh, tiers ye have done; 

Not to be spurr'd, loving the battle Mi'racles ye cannot: here is glory 

as well enow 

As he that rides him." " Lancelot- I" havmg flung the three: I see thee 

like," she said, maim'd, 

"Courteous in this. Lord Lancelot, Mangled: I swear thou canst not 

as in all." fl'"g the fourth." 

And Gareth, wakening, fiercely " And wherefore, damsel .'' tell me 

clutch'd the shield ; all ye know. 

"Ramp ye lance-splintering lions, on You cannot scare me; nor rough 

whom all spears face, or voice. 

Are rotten sticks! ye seem agape to Brute bulk of limb, or boundless 

roar ! savagery 

Yea, ramp and roar at leaving of Appal me from the quest." 

your lord ! — 

Care not, good beasts, so well I care ^^ u ^^^^ p^.^^^., ^^^ ^^.^^^ 

j^ ?J ^?^' 1 r 111 " God wot, I never look'd upon the 

U noble Lancelot, from my hold on r 

„ ese Seeing he never rides abroad by 

streams virtue — nre — thro one .„ . 

, .,, , day; 

IT u u, rT^ T J But watch'd him have I like a phan- 

JLven the shadow of Lancelot under * ™ .. ^ 

, . , J tom pass 

^^ ^'"'^r*- „ Chilling the night: nor have I heard 

Hence: let us go. ^^e voice. 

Always he made his mouthpiece of a 

Silent the silent field page 

They traversed. Arthur's harp tho' Who came and went, and still re- 

summer-wan, ported him 

In counter motion to the clouds, As closing in himself the strength of 

allured ten, 

The glance of Gareth dreaming on And when his anger tare him, mas- 

his liege. sacring 



2i6 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Man, woman, lad and girl — yea, Sunder the glooming crimson on the 

the soft babe! marge, 

Some hold that he hath swallow'd Black, with black banner, and a long 

infant flesh, black horn 

Monster! O Prince, I went for Beside it hanging; which Sir Gareth 

Lancelot first, graspt, 

The quest is Lancelot's: give him And so, before the two could hinder 

back the shield." him. 

Sent all his heart and breath thro' all 

Said Gareth laughing, " An he the horn. 

fight for this, Echo'd the walls; a light twinkled; 

Belike he wins it as the better man; anon 

Thus — and not else!" Came lights and lights, and once 

again he blew; 

But Lancelot on him urged Whereon were hollow tramplings up 

All the devisings of their chivalry and down 

When one might meet a mightier And muffled voices heard, and shad- 

than himself; ows past; 

How best to manage horse, lance. Till high above him, circled with 

sword and shield, her maids. 

And so fill up the gap where force The Lady Lyonors at a window 

might fail stood. 

With skill and fineness. Instant Beautiful among lights, and waving 

were his words. to him 

White hands, and courtesy; but 

Then Gareth, " Here be rules. I \\hen the Prince 

know but one — Three times had blown — after long 

To dash against mine enemy and to hush — at last — 

wm. The huge pavilion slowly yielded up. 

Yet have I watch'd thee victor in Thro' those black foldings, that 

the joust, which housed therein. 

And seen thy way." " Heaven help High on a nightblack horse, in night- 

thee," sigh'd Lynette. black arms. 

With white breast-bone, and barren 

Then for a space, and under cloud ribs of Death, 

that grew And crown'd with fleshless laughter 

To thunder-gloom palling all stars, — some ten steps — 

they rode In the half-light — thro' the dim 

In converse till she made her palfrey dawn — advanced 

halt, The monster, and then paused, and 

Lifted an arm, and softly whisper'd spake no word. 

" There." 

And all the three were silent seeing. But Gareth spake and all indig- 

_ pitch'd nantly, 

Beside the Castle Perilous on flat " Fool, for thou hast, men say, the 

field, strength of ten, 

A huge pavilion like a mountain Canst thou not trust the limbs thy 

peak God hath given. 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 217 

But must, to make the terror of thee And stay the world from Lady Lyon- 

more, ors. 

Trick thyself out in ghastly image- They never dream'd the passes would 

ries be past." 

Of that which Life hath done with, Answer'd Sir Gareth graciously to 

and the clod, one 

Less dull than thou, will hide with Not many a moon his younger, 

mantling flowers " My fair child. 

As if for pity?" But he spake no What madness made thee challenge 

word ; the chief knight 

Which set the horror higher: a Of Arthur's hall? " " Fair Sir, they 

maiden swoon'd ; bade me do it. 

The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands They hate the King, and Lancelot, 

and wept, the King's friend. 

As doom'd to be the bride of Night They hoped to slay him somewhere 

and Death ; on the stream. 

Sir Gareth's head prickled beneath They never dream'd the passes could 

his helm; be past." 
And ev'n Sir Lancelot thro' his warm 

T ^,° ^ 1 11 1 1)11- Then sprang the happier day from 

Ice strike, and all that mark d him underground; 

were aghast. j^^^ L^^^ Lyonors and her house, 

with dance 

. o- T 15 1 And revel and song, made merry 

At once Sir Lancelot s charger over Death, 

hercely neigh d , , , As being after all their foolish fears 
And Death s dark war-horse bounded 



forward with him. 



And horrors only proven a blooming 

Then those that did not blink the g^ j^J^; ^j^^,^ ^j^^^ ^^^ q^^^^^ 

terror, saw .1 

rr, T^ \ 1 , vv'on the quest. 
Ihat Death was cast to ground, and 

slowly rose. 

But with one stroke Sir Gareth split And he that told the tale in older 

the skull. times 

Half fell to right and half to left Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyon- 

and lay. ors, 

Then with a stronger buffet he clove But he, that told it later, says 

the helm Lynette. 
As thoroughly as the skull; and out 

from this 

Issued the bright face of a blooming THE MARRIAGE OF 

boy GERAINT 
Fresh as a flower new-born, and cry- 
ing, " Knight, The brave Geraint, a knight of 
Slay me not: my three brethren bade Arthur's court, 

me do it, A tributary prince of Devon, one 

To make a horror all about the Of that great Order of the Table 

house, Round, 



> 



2i8 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Had married Enid, Yniol's only Not less Geraint believed it; and 

child, there fell 

And loved her, as he loved the light A horror on him, lest his gentle wife, 

of Heaven. Thro' that great tenderness for 
And as the light of Heaven varies, Guinevere, 

now Had suffer'd, or should suffer any 
At sunrise, now at sunset, now by taint 

night In nature : wherefore going to the 
With moon and trembling stars, so King, 

loved Geraint He made this pretext, that his prince- 
To make her beauty vary day by dom lay 

day. Close on the borders of a territory, 

In crimsons and in purples and in Wherein were bandit earls, and 

gems. caitiff knights. 

And Enid, but to please her hus- Assassins, and all flyers from the 

band's eye, hand 

Who first had found and loved her Of Justice, and whatever loathes a 

in a state law: 

Of broken fortunes, daily fronted And therefore, till the King himself 

him should please 

In some fresh splendor ; and the To cleanse this common sewer of all 

Queen herself, his realm. 

Grateful to Prince Geraint for serv- He craved a fair permission to de- 
ice done, part. 

Loved her, and often with her own And there defend his marches; and 

white hands the King 

Array'd and deck'd her, as the love- Mused for a little on his plea, but, 

liest, last. 

Next after her own self, in all the Allowing it, the prince and Enid 

court. rode. 

And Enid loved the Queen, and with And fifty knights rode with them, 

true heart to the shores 

Adored her, as the stateliest and the Of Severn, and they past to their 

best own land ; 

And loveliest of all women upon Where, thinking, that if ever yet was 

earth. wife 

And seeing them so tender and so True to her lord, mine shall be so to 

close, me. 

Long in their common love rejoiced He compass'd her with sweet ob- 

Geraint. servances 

But when a rumor rose about the And worship, never leaving her, and 

Queen, grew 

Touching her guilty love for Lance- Forgetful of his promise to the King, 

lot, Forgetful of the falcon and the hunt, 

Tho' yet there lived no proof, nor Forgetful of the tilt and tournament, 

yet was heard Forgetful of his glory and his name. 

The world's loud whisper breaking Forgetful of his princedom and its 

into storm, cares. 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 219 

And this forgetfulness was hateful to Running too vehemently to break 

her. upon it. 

And by and by the people, when they And Enid woke and sat beside the 

met couch, 

In twos and threes, or fuller com- Admiring him, and thought within 

panics, herself. 

Began to scoff and jeer and babble of Was ever man so grandly made as 

him he? 

As of a prince whose manhood was Then, like a shadow, past the peo- 

all gone, pie's talk 

And molten down in mere uxorious- And accusation of uxoriousness 

ness. Across her mind, and bowing over 

And this she gather'd from the peo- him, 

pie's eyes: Low to her own heart piteously she 

This, too, the women who attired said: 

her head, 

To please her, dwelling on his *' O noble breast and all-puissant 

boundless love, arms, 

Told Enid, and they sadden'd her Am I the cause, I the poor cause 

the more: that men 

And day by day she thought to tell Reproach you, saying all your force 

Geraint, is gone? 

But could not out of bashful deli- I am the cause, because I dare not 

cacy ; speak 

While he that watch'd her sadden, And tell him what I think and what 

was the more they say. 

Suspicious that her nature had a And yet I hate that he should linger 

taint. here ; 

I cannot love my lord and not his 
name. 

At last, it chanced that on a sum- Far liefer had I gird his harness on 

mer morn him, 

(They sleeping each by either) the And ride with him to battle and 

new sun stand by. 

Beat thro' the blindless casement of And watch his mightful hand strik- 

the room, ing great blows 

And heated the strong warrior in his At caitiffs and at wrongers of the 

dreams ; world. 

Who, moving, cast the coverlet Far better were I laid in the dark 

aside, earth. 

And bared the knotted column of Not hearing any more his noble 

his throat, voice, 

The massive square of his heroic Not to be folded more in these dear 

breast, arms, 

And arms on which the standing And darken'd from the high light in 

muscle sloped, his eyes, 

As slopes a wild brook o'er a little Than that my lord thro' me should 

stone. suffer shame. 



220 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Am I so bold, and could I so stand 

by, 
And see my dear lord wounded in 

the strife, 
Or maybe pierced to death before 

mine eyes, 
And yet not dare to tell him what I 

think. 
And how men slur him, saying all his 

force 
Is melted into mere effeminacy? 
O me, I fear that I am no true wife." 



Half inwardly, half audibly she 

spoke. 
And the strong passion in her made 

her weep 
True tears upon his broad and naked 

breast, 
And these awoke him, and by great 

mischance 
He heard but fragments of her later 

words. 
And that she fear'd she was not a 

true wife. 
And then he thought, " In spite of 

all my care, 
For all my pains, poor man, for all 

my pains. 
She is not faithful to me, and I see 

her 
Weeping for some gay knight in 

Arthur's hall." 
Then tho' he loved and reverenced 

her too much 
To dream she could be guilty of foul 

act. 
Right thro' his manful breast darted 

the pang 
That makes a man, in the sweet face 

of her 
Whom he loves most, lonely and 

miserable. 
At this he hurl'd his huge limbs out 

of bed, 
And shook his drowsy squire awake 

and cried. 



" My charger and her palfrey ; " 
then to her, 

" I will ride forth into the wilder- 
ness; 

For tho' it seems my spurs are yet 
to win, 

I have not fall'n so low as some 
would wish. 

And thou, put on thy worst and 
meanest dress 

And ride with me." And Enid 
ask'd, amazed, 

" If Enid errs, let Enid learn her 
fault." 

But he, " I charge thee, ask not, but 
obey." 

Then she bethought her of a faded 
silk, 

A faded mantle and a faded veil, 

And moving toward a cedarn cabi- 
net, 

Wherein she kept them folded rever- 
ently 

With sprigs of summer laid between 
the folds. 

She took them, and array'd herself 
therein. 

Remembering when first he came on 
her 

Drest in that dress, and how he 
loved her in it. 

And all her foolish fears about the 
dress, 

And all hu journey to her, as him- 
self 

Had told her, and their coming to 
the court. 



For Arthur on the Whitsuntide 

before 
Held court at old Caerleon upon 

Usk. 
There on a day, he sitting high in 

hall. 
Before him came a forester of Dean, 
Wet from the woods, with notice of 

a hart 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 



221 



Taller than all his fellows, milky- Sweetly and statelily, and with all 

white, grace 

First seen that day: these things he Of womanhood and queenhood, 

told the King. answer'd him: 

Then the good King gave order to " Late, late, Sir Prince," she said, 

let blow "later than we!" 

His horns for hunting on the mor- " Yea, noble Queen," he answer'd, 

row-morn. " and so late 

And when the Queen petition'd for That I but come like you to see the 

his leave hunt, 

To see the hunt, allow'd it easily. Not join it." " Therefore wait with 



So with the morning all the court 

were gone. 
But Guinevere lay late into the 

morn, 
Lost in sweet dreams, and dreaming 

of her love 
For Lancelot, and forgetful of the 

hunt; 
But rose at last, a single maiden 

with her. 
Took horse, and forded Usk, and 

gain'd the wood ; 



me," she said ; 

" For on this little knoll, if any- 
where. 

There is good chance that we shall 
hear the hounds: 

Here often they break covert at our 
feet." 



And while they listen'd for the 
distant hunt. 
And chiefly for the baying of Cavall, 

There, on a little knoll beside it. King Arthur's hound of deepest 

stay'd mouth, there rode 

Waiting to hear the hounds; but Full slowly by a knight, lady, and 

heard instead dwarf; 

A sudden sound of hoofs, for Prince Whereof the dwarf lagg'd latest, 

Geraint, and the knight 

Late also, wearing neither hunting- Had visor up, and show'd a youthful 

dress face, 

Nor weapon, save a golden-hilted Imperious, and of haughtiest linea- 

brand, ments. 

Came quickly flashing thro' the And Guinevere, not mindful of his 

shallow ford face 

Behind them, and so gallop'd up the In the King's hall, desired his name, 

knoll. and sent 

A purple scarf, at either end Her maiden to demand it of the 

whereof dwarf ; 

There swung an apple of the purest Who being vicious, old and irritable, 

gold. And doubling all his master's vice of 

Sway'd round about him, as he pride, 

gallop'd up Made answer sharply that she slx)uld 

To join them, glancing like a dragon- not know. 

fly " Then will I ask it of himself," she 

In summer suit and silks of holiday. said. 

Low bow'd the tributary Prmce, and " Nay, by my faith, thou shalt not," 

she, cried the dwarf; 



222 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



" Thou art not worthy ev'n to speak 

of hfm;" 
And when she put her horse toward 

the knight, 
Struck at her with his whip, and she 

return'd 
Indignant to the Queen; whereat 

Geraint 
Exclaiming, " Surely I will learn the 

name," 
Made sharply to the dwarf, and 

ask'd it of him, 
Who answer'd as before; and when 

the Prince 
Had put his horse in motion toward 

the knight. 
Struck at him with his whip, and cut 

his cheek. 
The Prince's blood spirted upon the 

scarf, 
Dyeing it; and his quick, instinctive 

hand 
Caught at the hilt, as to abolish 

him: 
But he, from his exceeding manful- 

ness 
And pure nobility of temperament. 
Wroth to be wroth at such a worm, 

refrain'd 
From ev'n a word, and so returning 

said: 

" I will avenge this insult, noble 

Queen, 
Done in your maiden's person to 

yourself: 
And I will track this vermin to their 

earths : 
For tho' I ride unarm'd, I do not 

doubt 
To find, at some place I shall come 

at, arms 
On loan, or else for pledge; and, 

being found, 
Then will I fight him, and will 

break his pride. 
And on the third day will again be 

here, 



So that I be not fall'n in fight. 
Farewell." 

" Farewell, fair Prince," answer'd 

the stately Queen. 
" Be prosperous in this journey, as in 

all; 
And may you light on all things that 

you love. 
And live to wed with her whom first 

you love: 
But ere you wed with any, bring 

your bride. 
And I, were she the daughter of a 

king. 
Yea, tho' she were a beggar from 

the hedge, 
Will clothe her for her bridals like 

the sun." 

And Prince Geraint, now think- 
ing that he heard 

The noble hart at bay, now the far 
horn, 

A little vext at losing of the hunt, 

A little at the vile occasion, rode. 

By ups and downs, thro' many a 
grassy glade 

And valley, with fixt eye following 
the three. 

At last they issued from the world of 
wood, 

And climb'd upon a fair and even 
ridge, 

And show'd themselves against the 
sky, and sank. 

And thither came Geraint, and un- 
derneath 

Beheld the long street of a little 
town 

In a long valley, on one side 
whereof, 

White from the mason's hand, a 
fortress rose; 

And on one side a castle in decay, 

Beyond a bridge that spann'd a dry 
ravine : 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 223 

And out of town and valley came a " Friend, he that labors for the 

noise sparrow-hawk 

As of a broad brook o'er a shingly Has little time for idle questioners." 

bed Whereat Geraint flash'd into sudden 

Brawling, or like a clamor of the spleen : 

rooks " A thousand pips eat up your spar- 

At distance, ere they settle for the row-hawk! 

night. Tits, wrens, and all wing'd nothings 

peck him dead ! 

And onward to the fortress rode Ye think the rustic cackle of your 

the three, bourg 

And enter'd, and were lost behind The murmur of the world ! What 

the walls. is it to me? 

" So," thought Geraint, " I have O wretched set of sparrows, one and 

track'd him to his earth." all. 

And down the long street riding Who pipe of nothing but of sparrow- 

wearily, hawks ! 

Found every hostel full, and every- Speak, if ye be not like the rest, 

where hawk-mad, 

Was hammer laid to hoof, and the Where can I get me harborage for 

hot hiss the night? 

And bustling whistle of the youth And arms, arms, arms to fight my 

who scour'd enemy? Speak! " 

His master's armor ; and of such a Whereat the armorer turning all 

one amazed 

He ask'd, " What means the tumult And seeing one so gay in purple 

in the town? " silks. 

Who told him, scouring still, " The Came forward with the helmet yet 

sparrow-hawk ! " in hand 

Then riding close behind an ancient And answer'd, " Pardon me, O 

churl, stranger knight ; 

Who, smitten by the dusty sloping We hold a tourney here to-morrow 

beam, ' morn, 

Went sweating underneath a sack of And there is scantly time for half 

corn, the work. 

Ask'd yet once more what meant the Arms? truth! I know not: all are 

hubbub here? wanted here. 

Who answer'd grufflj^ "Ugh! the Harborage? truth, good truth, I 

sparrow-hawk." know not, save. 

Then riding further past an armor- It may be, at Earl Yniol's, o'er the 

er's, bridge 

Who, with back turn'd, and bow'd Yonder." He spoke and fell to 

above his work, work again. 
Sat riveting a helmet on his knee. 

He put the self-same query, but the Then rode Geraint, a little spleen- 
man ful yet. 
Not turning round, nor looking at Across the bridge that spann'd the 

him, said : dry ravine. 



224 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

There musing sat the hoary-headed And like a crag was gay with wild- 
Earl, ing flowers: 
(His dress a suit of fray'd magnifi- And high above a piece of turret 

cence, stair, 

Once fit for feasts of ceremony) and Worn by the feet that now were 

' said: silent, wound 

" Whither, fair son ? " to whom Bare to the sun, and monstrous ivy- 

Geraint replied, stems 

" O friend, I seek a harborage for Claspt the gray walls with hairy- 

the night." fibered arms. 

Then Yniol, " Enter therefore and And suck'd the joining of the stones, 

partake and look'd 

The slender entertainment of a A knot, beneath, of snakes, aloft, a 

house grove. 
Once rich, now poor, but ever open- 

door'd." And while he waited in the castle 

'' Thanks, venerable friend," replied court, 

Geraint; The voice of Enid, Yniol's daughter, 

" So that ye do not serve me spar- rang 

row-hawks Clear thro' the open casement of the 

For supper, I will enter, I will eat hall. 

With all the passion of a twelve Singing; and as the sweet voice of a 

hours' fast." bird. 

Then sigh'd and smiled the hoary- Heard by the lander in a lonely isle, 

headed Earl, Moves him to think what kind of 

And answer'd, " Graver cause than bird it is 

yours is mine That sings so delicately clear, and 

To curse this hedgerow thief, the make 

sparrow-hawk: Conjecture of the plumage and the 

But in, go in; for save yourself de- form; 

sire it. So the sweet voice of Enid moved 

We will not touch upon him ev'n in Geraint; 

jest." And made him like a man abroad at 

morn 

Then rode Geraint into the castle When first the liquid note beloved of 

court, men 

His charger trampling many a Comes flying over many a windy 

prickly star wave 

Of sprouted thistle on the broken To Britain, and in April suddenly 

stones. Breaks from a coppice gemm'd with 

He look'd and saw that all was green and red, 

ruinous. And he suspends his converse with a 

Here stood a shatter'd archway friend, 

plumed with fern ; Or it may be the labor of his hands. 

And here had fall'n a great part of a To think or say, " There is the 

tower, nightingale ; " 

Whole, like a crag that tumbles So fared it with Geraint, who 

from the clifif, thought and said. 




'here by god's rood is the one maid for me' " — Page 225 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 225 

*' Here, by God's grace, is the one That lightly breaks a faded flower- 
voice for me." sheath, 

Moved the fair Enid, all in faded 

It chanced the song that Enid silk, 

sang was one Her daughter. In a moment thought 

Of Fortune and her wheel, and Enid Geraint, 

sang: " Here by God's rood is the one 

maid for me." 

" Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel But none spake word except the 

and lower the proud; hoary Earl: 

Turn thy wild wheel thro' sunshine, " Enid, the good knight's horse 

storm, and cloud ; stands in the court ; 

Thy wheel and thee we neither love Take him to stall, and give him corn, 

nor hate. and then 

Go to the town and buy us flesh and 

" Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel wine ; 

with smile or frown; And we will make us merry as we 

With that wild wheel we go not up may. 

or down ; Our hoard is little, but our hearts 

Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great." 
are great. 

He spake: the Prince, as Enid 

" Smile and we smile, the lords of past him, fain 

many lands ; To follow, strode a stride, but Yniol 

Frown and we smile, the lords of caught 

our own hands; His purple scarf, and held, and said, 

For man is man and master of his "Forbear! 

fate. Rest! the good house, tho' ruin'd, O 

my son, 

" Turn, turn thy wheel above the Endures not that her guest should 

staring crowd; serve himself." 

Thy wheel and thou are shadows in And reverencing the custom of the 

the cloud; house 

Thy wheel and thee we neither love Geraint, from utter courtesy, for- 

nor hate." bore. 

" Hark, by the bird's song ye may So Enid took his charger to the 

learn the nest," stall; 

Said Yniol ; " enter quickly." Enter- And after went her way across the 

ing then, bridge, 

Right o'er a mount of newly-fallen And reach'd the town, and while the 

stones, Prince and earl 

The dusky-rafter'd many-cobweb'd Yet spoke together, came again with 

hall, one, 

He found an ancient dame in dim A youth, that following with a cos- 
brocade; trel bore 

And near her, like a blossom ver- The means of goodly welcome, flesh 

meil-white, and wine. 



226 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And Enid brought sweet cakes to Sent her own maiden to demand the 

make them cheer, name, 

And in her veil enfolded, manchet His dwarf, a vicious under-shapen 

bread. thing. 

And then, because their hall must Struck at her with his whip, and she 

also serve return'd 

For kitchen, boil'd the flesh, and Indignant to the Queen; and then I 

spread the board, swore 

And stood behind, and waited on the That I would track this caitiff to his 

three. hold, 

And seeing her so sweet and service- And fight and break his pride, and 

able, have it of him, 

Geraint had longing in him ever- And all unarm'd I rode, and thought 

more to find 

To stoop and kiss the tender little Arms in your town, where all the 

thumb, men are mad ; 

That crost the trencher as she laid it They take the rustic murmur of their 

down : bourg 

But after all had eaten, then Ger- For the great wave that echoes 

aint, round the world ; 

For now the wine made summer in They would not hear me speak: but 

his veins, if ye know 

Let his eye rove in following, or Where I can light on arms, or if 

rest yourself 

On Enid at her lowly handmaid- Should have them, tell me, seeing I 

work, have sworn 

Now here, now there, about the That I will break his pride and learn 

dusky hall; his name, 

Then suddenly addrest the hoary Avenging this great insult done the 

Earl: Queen." 



" Fair Host and Earl, I pray your Then cried Earl Yniol, " Art thou 

courtesy ; he indeed. 

This sparrow-hawk, what is he? tell Geraint, a name far-sounded among 

me of him. men 

His name? but no, good faith, I will For noble deeds? and truly I, when 

not have it: first 

For if he be the knight whom late I saw you moving by me on the 

I saw bridge. 

Ride into that new fortress by your Felt ye were somewhat, yea, and by 

town, your state 

White from the mason's hand, then And presence might have guess'd you 

have I sworn one of those 

From his own lips to have it — I am That eat in Arthur's hall at Came- 

Geraint lot. 

Of Devon — for this morning when Nor speak I now from foolish flat- 

the Queen tery; 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 227 

For this dear child hath often heard From mine own earldom foully 

me praise ousted me; 

Your feats of arms, and often when Built that new fort to overawe my 

I paused friends, 

Hath ask'd again, and ever loved to For truly there are those who love 

hear; me yet; 

So grateful is the noise of noble And keeps me in this ruinous castle 

deeds here, 

To noble hearts who see but acts of Where doubtless he would put me 

wrong: soon to death, 

never yet had woman such a But that his pride too much despises 

pair me : 

Of suitors as this maiden ; first And I myself sometimes despise my- 

Limours, self; 

A creature w^holly given to brawls For I have let men be, and have 

and wine, their way; 

Drunk even when he woo'd ; and be Am much too gentle, have not used 

he dead my power : 

1 know not, but he past to the wild Nor know I whether I be very base 

land. Or very manful, whether very wise 

The second was your foe, the spar- Or very foolish; only this I know, 

row-hawk. That whatsoever evil happen to me. 

My curse, my nephew — I will not I seem to suffer nothing heart or 

let his name limb. 

Slip from my lips if I can help it — But can endure it all most patiently." 

he. 

When I that knew him fierce and « ^tt h • i i .. i- i 

turbulent Well said, true heart, replied 

Refused her to him, then his pride ^, (^eraint but arms, 

„„,„! ^ . 1 nat if the sparrow-hawk, this 

awoKe , u /; u 

And since the proud man often is the , nephew,^ hght 

In next day s tourney 1 may break 



mean 



He sow'd a slander in the common ' ^^^ ^' 

ear. 
Affirming that his father left him And Yniol answer'd, " Arms, in- 
gold, deed, but old 
And in my charge, which was not And rusty, old and rusty, Prince 

render'd to him ; Geraint, 

Bribed with large promises the men Are mine, and therefore at thine ask- 

who served ing, thine. 

About my person, the more easily But in this tournament can no man 

Because my means were somewhat tilt, 

broken into Except the lady he loves best be 

Thro' open doors and hospitality; there. 

Raised my own town against me in Two forks are fixt into the meadow 

the night ground. 

Before my Enid's birthday, sack'd And over these is placed a silver 

my house; wand. 



228 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



And over that a golden sparrow- 
hawk, 

The prize of beauty for the fairest 
there. 

And this, what knight soever be in 
field 

Lays claim to for the lady at his side, 

And tilts with my good nephew 
thereupon, 

Who being apt at arms and big of 
bone 

Has ever won it for the lady with 
him. 

And toppling over all antagonism 

Has earn'd himself the name of spar- 
row-hawk. 

But thou, that hast no lady, canst 
not fight." 

To whom Geraint with eyes all 

bright replied. 
Leaning a little toward him, " Thy 

leave ! 
Let me lay lance in rest, O noble 

host. 
For this dear child, because I never 

saw, 
Tho' having seen all beauties of our 

time. 
Nor can see elsewhere, anything so 

fair. 
And if I fall her name will yet re- 
main 
Untarnish'd as before; but if I live, 
So aid me Heaven when at mine 

uttermost. 
As I will make her truly my true 

wife." 

Then, howsoever patient, Yniol's 

heart 
Danced in his bosom, seeing better 

days. 
And looking round he saw not Enid 

there, 
— Who hearing her own name had 

stol'n away — 



But that old dame, to whom full 
tenderly 

And fondling all her hand in his he 
said, 

" Mother, a maiden is a tender thing. 

And best by her that bore her under- 
stood. 

Go thou to rest, but ere thou go to 
rest 

Tell her, and prove her heart toward 
the Prince." 



So spake the kindly-hearted earl, 

and she 
With frequent smile and nod depart- 
ing found, 
Half disarray'd as to her rest, the 

girl ; 
Whom first she kiss'd on either 

cheek, and then 
On either shining shoulder laid a 

hand. 
And kept her off and gazed upon her 

face, 
And told her all their converse in the 

hall. 
Proving her heart: but never light 

and shade 
Coursed one another more on open 

ground 
Beneath a troubled heaven, than red 

and pale 
Across the face of Enid hearing her ; 
While slowly falling as a scale that 

falls. 
When weight is added only grain by 

grain, 
Sank her sweet head upon her gentle 

breast ; 
Nor did she lift an eye nor speak a 

word. 
Rapt in the fear and in the wonder 

of it; 
So moving without answer to her 

rest 
She found no rest, and ever fail'd to 

draw 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 229 

The quiet night into her blood, but The prize of beauty." Loudly spake 

lay the Prince, 

Contemplating her own unworthi- "Forbear: there is a worthier," and 

ness; the knight 

And when the pale and bloodless With some surprise and thrice as 

east began much disdain 

To quicken to the sun, arose, and Turn'd, and beheld the four, and all 

raised his face 

Her mother too, and hand in hand Glow'd like the heart of a great fire 

they moved at Yule, 
Down to the meadow where the So burnt he was with passion, cry- 
jousts were held, ing out, 
-And waited there for Yniol and "Do battle for it then," no more; 

Geraint. and thrice 

They clash'd together, and thrice 
they brake their spears. 

And thither came the twain, and Then each, dishorsed and drawing, 

when Geraint lash'd at each 

Beheld her first in field, awaiting So often and with such blows, that 

him, all the crowd 

He felt, were she the prize of bodily Wonder'd, and now and then from 

force, distant walls 

Himself beyond the rest pushing There came a clapping as of phan- 

could move tom hands. 

The chair of Idris. Yniol's rusted So twice they fought, and twice they 

arms breathed, and still 

Were on his princely person, but The dew of their great labor, and 

thro' these the blood 

Princelike his bearing shone ; and Of their strong bodies, flowing, 

errant knights drain'd their force. 

And ladies came, and by and by the But cither's force was match'd till 

town Yniol's cry, 

Flow'd in, and settling circled all the " Remember that great insult done 

lists. the Queen," 

And there they fixt the forks into Increased Geraint's, who heaved his 

the ground, blade aloft, 

And over these they placed the silver And crack'd the helmet thro', and 

wand, bit the bone. 

And over that the golden sparrow- And fell'd him, and set foot upon 

hawk. his breast, 

Then Yniol's nephew, after trumpet And said, "Thy name?" To whom 

blown, the fallen man 

Spake to the lady with him and pro- Made answer, groaning, " Edyrn, 

claim'd, son of Nudd! 

" Advance and take, as fairest of the Ashamed am I that I should tell it 

fair, thee. 

What I these two years past have My pride is broken: men have seen 

won for thee, my fall." 



230 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" Then, Edyrn, son of Nudd," re- No later than last eve to Prince- 
plied Geraint, Geraint — 

" These two things shalt thou do, or So bent he seem'd on going the third 

else thou diest. da)', 

First, thou thyself, with damsel and He would not leave her, till her 

with dwarf, promise given — 

Shalt ride to Arthur's court, and To ride with him this morning to the 

coming there, court, 

Crave pardon for that insult done the And there be made known to the 

Queen, stately Queen, 

And shalt abide her judgment on it; And there be wedded with all cere- 
next, mony. 

Thou shalt give back their earldom to At this she cast her eyes upon her 

thy kin. dress, 

These two things shalt thou do, or And thought it never yet had look'd 

thou shalt die." so mean. 

And Edyrn answer'd, " These things For as a leaf in mid-November is 

will I do. To what it was in mid-October, 
For I have never yet been over- seem'd 

thrown. The dress that now she look'd on to 
And thou hast overthrown me, and the dress 

my pride She look'd on ere the coming of 
Is broken down, for Enid sees my Geraint. 

fall ! " And still she look'd, and still the ter- 
And rising up, he rode to Arthur's ror grew 

court. Of that strange bright and dreadful 
And there the Queen forgave him thing, a court, 

easily. All staring at her in her faded silk: 

And being young, he changed and And softly to her own sweet heart she 

came to loathe said : 

His crime of traitor, slowly drew 

himself 
Bright from his old dark life, and fell " This noble prince who won our 

at last earldom back. 

In the great battle fighting for the So splendid in his acts and his attire, 

King. Sweet heaven, how much I shall dis- 
credit him ! 

But when the third day from the Would he could tarry with us here 

hunting-morn awhile. 

Made a low splendor in the world, But being so beholden to the Prince, 

and wings It were but little grace in any of us. 

Moved in her ivy, Enid, for she lay Bent as he seem'd on going this third 
With her fair head in the dim-yellow day, 

light. To seek a second favor at his hands. 

Among the dancing shadows of the Yet if he could but tarry a day or 

birds, two. 

Woke and bethought her of her prom- Myself would work eye dim, and 

ise given finger lame. 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 231 

Par liefer than so much discredit Of that and these to her own faded 

him." self 

And the gay court, and fell asleep 
again; 

And Enid fell in longing for a And dreamt herself was such a faded 

dress form 

All branch'd and flower'd with gold, Among her burnish'd sisters of the 

a costly gift pool ; 

Of her good mother, given her on But this was in the garden of a 

the night king; 

Before her birthday, three sad years And tho' she lay dark in the pool, 

ago, she knew 

That night of fire, when Edyrn That all was bright; that all about 

sack'd their house, were birds 

And scatter'd all they had to all the Of sunny plume in gilded trellis- 
winds: work; 

For while the mother show'd it, and That all the turf was rich in plots 

the two that look'd 

Were turning and admiring it, the Each like a garnet or a turkis in 

work it ; 

To both appear'd so costly, rose a And lords and ladies of the high 

cry court went 

That Edyrn's men were on them, In silver tissue talking things of 

and they fled state; 

With little save the jewels they had And children of the King in cloth of 

on, gold 

Which being sold and sold had Glanced at the doors or gambol'd 

bought them bread: down the walks; 

And Edyrn's men had caught them And while she thought, " They will 

in their flight, not see me," came 

And placed them in this ruin; and A stately queen whose name was 

she wish'd Guinevere, 

The Prince had found her in her And all the children in their cloth 

ancient home; of gold 

Then let her fancy flit across the Ran to her, crying, "If we have fish 

past, at all 

And roam the goodly places that she Let them be gold ; and charge the 

knew; gardeners now 

And last bethought her how she used To pick the faded creature from the 

to watch, pool. 

Near that old home, a pool of golden And cast it on the mixen that it 

carp; die." 

And one was patch'd and blurr'd And therewithal one came and 

and lusterless seized on her, 

Among his burnish'd brethren of the And Enid started waking, with her 

pool ; heart 

And half asleep she made compari- All overshadow'd by the foolish 

son dream, 



232 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And lo! it was her mother grasping Came one with this and laid it in my 

her hand, 

To get her well awake; and in her For love or fear, or seeking favor of 

hand us, 

A suit of bright apparel, which she Because we have our earldom back 

laid again. 

Flat on the couch, and spoke exult- And yester-eve I would not tell you 

ingly: of it, 

But kept it for a sweet surprise at 

" See here, my child, how fresh ,. i ' • • • :, 

the colors look, ^"^' ^^^^^ >^ ^\ "°^ ^ ^^T.^^ surprise? 

How fast they hold like colors of a ^°' ^ "^^'^^^ unwdlmgly have 
shell ^'°''" 

That keeps the wear and polish of ^^ ,^^^^^ ^"^^' ^' y°"' "^^ ""^'^^^ 
^1 nave yours, 

the wave. a j u • ^r • ^ t • 

wTu ^3 T4. i. -And howsoever patient, Yniol his. 

Why not.'^ It never yet was worn, at. j l T r n 

T . Ah, dear, he took me from a goodly 

Look on it, child, and tell me if ye t,,-. , ' r • i i 

I .. " With store of rich apparel, sumptu- 

know it. f ft-yf 

ous tare. 

And page, and maid, and squire, and 

And Enid look'd, but all confused seneschal, 

at first. And pastime both of hawk and 
Could scarce divide it from her hound, and all 

foolish dream: That appertains to noble mainte- 
Then suddenly she knew it and nance. 

rejoiced, Yea, and he brought me to a goodly 
And answer'd, "Yea, I know it; house; 

your good gift. But since our fortune swerved from 
So sadly lost on that unhappy night; sun to shade. 

Your own good gift!" "Yea, And all thro' that young traitor^ 

surely," said the dame, cruel need 

" And gladly given again this happy Constrain'd us, but a better time has 

morn. come ; 

For when the jousts were ended So clothe yourself in this, that bet- 
yesterday, ter fits 

Went Yniol thro' the town, and Our mended fortunes and a Prince's 

everywhere bride : 

He found the sack and plunder of For tho' ye won the prize of fairest 

our house fair, 

All scatter'd thro' the houses of the And tho' I heard him call you fairest 

town ; fair. 

And gave command that all which Let never maiden think, however 

once was ours fair. 

Should now be ours again: and yes- She is not fairer in new clothes than 

ter-eve, old. 

While }'e were talking sweetly with And should some great court-lady 

your Prince, say, the Prince 



THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT 233 

Hath pick'd a ragged-robin from the As this great Prince invaded us, and 

hedge, we, 

And like a madman brought her to Not beat him back, but welcomed 

the court, him with joy. 

Then were ye shamed, and, worse, And I can scarcely ride with you to 

might shame the Prince court. 

To whom we are beholden; but I For old am I, and rough the ways 

know, and wild ; 

When my dear child is set forth at But Yniol goes, and I full oft shall 

her best, dream 

That neither court nor country, tho' I see my princess as I see her now, 

they sought Clothed with my gift, and gay among 

Thro' all the provinces like those of the gay." 

old 

That lighted on Queen Esther, has But while the women thus re- 

her match." joiced, Geraint 

Woke where he slept in the high 
hall, and call'd 

Here ceased the kindly mother out For Enid, and when Yniol made 

of breath; report 

And Enid listen'd brightening as she Of that good mother making Enid 

lay; ^ gay 

Then, as the white and glittering In such apparel as might well be- 

star of morn seem 

Parts from a bank of snow, and by His princess, or indeed the stately 

and by Queen, 

Slips into golden cloud, the maiden He answer'd : " Earl, entreat her 

rose, by my love. 

And left her maiden couch, and Albeit I give no reason but my wish, 

robed herself, That she ride with me in her faded 

Help'd by the mother's careful hand silk." 

and eye, Yniol with that hard message went; 

Without a mirror, in the gorgeous it fell 

gown; Like flaws in summer laying lusty 

Who, after, turn'd her daughter corn : 

round, and said. For Enid, all abash'd she knew not 

She never yet had seen her half so why, 

fair; Dared not to glance at her good 

And call'd her like that maiden in mother's face, 

the tale, But silently, in all obedience. 

Whom Guydion made by glamor Her mother silent too, nor helping 

out of flowers, her. 

And sweeter than the bride of Cas- Laid from her limbs the costly- 

sivelaun, broider'd gift, 

Flur, for whose love the Roman And robed them in her ancient suit 

Caesar first again. 
Invaded Britain, " But we beat him And so descended. Never man re- 
back, joiced 



234 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



More than Geraint to greet her thus 
attired ; 

And glancing all at once as keenly at 
her 

As careful robins eye the delver's 
toil, 

Made her cheek burn and either eye- 
lid fall, 

But rested with her sweet face satis- 
fied; 

Then seeing cloud upon the mother's 
brow, 

Her by both hands he caught, and 
sweetly said, 

** O my new mother, be not wroth 

or grieved 
At thy new son, for my petition to 

her. 
When late I left Caerleon, our great 

Queen, 
In words whose echo lasts, they were 

so sweet. 
Made promise, that whatever bride 

I brought. 
Herself would clothe her like the 

sun in Heaven. 
Thereafter, when I reach'd this 

ruin'd hall, 
Beholding one so bright in dark 

estate, 
I vow'd that could I gain her, our 

fair Queen, 
No hand but hers, should make your 

Enid burst 
Sunlike from cloud — and likewise 

thought perhaps, 
That service done so graciously 

would bind 
The two together; fain I would the 

two 
Should love each other: how can 

Enid find 
A nobler friend? Another thought 

was mine ; 
I came among you here so suddenly. 
That tho' her gentle presence at the 

lists 



Might well have served for proof 

that I was loved, 
I doubted whether daughter's ten- 
derness, 
Or easy nature, might not let 

itself 
Be molded by your wishes for her 

weal ; 
Or whether some false sense in her 

own self 
Of my contrasting brightness, over- 
bore 
Her fancy dwelling in this dusky 

hall; 
And such a sense might make her 

long for court 
And all its perilous glories: and I 

thought. 
That could I someway prove such 

force in her 
Link'd with such love for me, that 

at a word 
(No reason given her) she could 

cast aside 
A splendor dear to women, new to 

her, 
And therefore dearer; or if not so 

new. 
Yet therefore tenfold dearer by the 

power 
Of intermitted usage; then I felt 
That I could rest, a rock in ebbs and 

flows, 
Fixt on her faith. Now, therefore, 

I do rest, 
A prophet certain of my prophecy. 
That never shadow of mistrust can 

cross 
Between us. Grant me pardon for 

my thoughts: 
And for my strange petition I will 

make 
Amends hereafter by some gaudy- 
day, 
When your fair child shall wear 

your costly gift 
Beside your own warm hearth, with, 

on her knees. 



GERAINT AND ENID 



235 



Who knows? another gift of the high 

God, 
Which, maybe, shall have learn'd to 

lisp you thanks." 

He spoke: the mother smiled, but 

half in tears, 
Then brought a mantle down and 

wrapt her in it, 
And claspt and kiss'd her, and they 

rode away. 

Now thrice that morning Guine- 
vere had climb'd 

The giant tower, from whose high 
crest, they say, 

Men saw the goodly hills of Somer- 
set, 

And white sails flying on the yellow 
sea; 

But not to goodly hill or yellow sea 

Look'd the fair Queen, but up the 
vale of Usk, 

By the flat meadow, till she saw them 
come ; 

And then descending met them at 
the gates. 

Embraced her with all welcome as a 
friend. 

And did her honor as the Prince's 
bride, 

And clothed her for her bridals like 
the sun ; 

And all that week was old Caerleon 

gay, 

For by the hands of Dubric, the high 

saint. 
They twain were wedded with all 

ceremony. 

And this was on the last 3'ear's 

Whitsuntide. 
But Enid ever kept the faded silk, 
Remembering how first he came on 

her, 
Drest in that dress, and how he 

loved her in it, 



And all her foolish fears about the 

dress, 
And all his journey toward her, as 

himself 
Had told her, and their coming to 

the court. 

And now this morning when he 

said to her, 
" Put on your worst and meanest 

dress," she found 
And took it, and array'd herself 

therein. 



GERAINT AND ENID 

O PURBLIND race of miserable men 

How many among us at this very 
hour 

Do forge a life-long trouble for our- 
selves. 

By taking true for false, or false for 
true; 

Here, thro' the feeble twilight of 
this world 

Groping, how many, until we pass 
and reach 

That other, where we see as we are 



So fared it with Geraint, who 

issuing forth 
That morning, when they both had 

got to horse. 
Perhaps because he loved her pas- 
sionately, 
And felt that tempest brooding 

round his heart, 
Which, if he spoke at all, would 

break perforce 
Upon a head so dear in thunder, 

said: 
" Not at my side. I charge thee ride 

before, 
Ever a good way on before; and this 
I charge thee, on thy duty as a wife, 



236 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Whatever happens, not to speak to And there he broke the sentence in 

me, his heart 

No, not a word ! " and Enid was Abruptly, as a man upon his tongue 

aghast; May break it, when his passion 

And forth they rode, but scarce masters him. 

three paces on. And she was ever praying the sweet 

When crying out, " Effeminate as I heavens 

am. To save her dear lord whole from 

I will not fight my way with gilded any wound. 

arms. And ever in her mind she cast about 

All shall be iron ; " he loosed a For that unnoticed failing in herself, 

mighty purse. Which made him look so cloudy and 

Hung at his belt, and hurl'd it so cold; 

toward the squire. Till the great plover's human whistle 

So the last sight that Enid had of amazed 

home Her heart, and glancing round the 

Was all the marble threshold flash- waste she fear'd 

ing, strown In every wavering brake an ambus- 

With gold and scatter'd coinage, and cade. 

the squire Then thought again, " If there be 

Chafing his shoulder: then he cried such in me, 

again, I might amend it by the grace of 

"To the wilds!" and Enid leading Heaven, 

down the tracks If he would only speak and tell me 

Thro' which he bade her lead him on, of it." 

they past 

The marches, and by bandit-haunted But when the fourth part of the 

holds, day was gone. 

Gray swamps and pools, waste places Then Enid was aware of three tall 

of the hern, knights 

And wildernesses, perilous paths, On horseback, wholly arm'd, behind 

they rode: a rock 

Round was their pace at first, but In shadow, waiting for them, caitiffs 

slacken'd soon : all ; 

A stranger meeting them had surely And heard one crying to his fellows, 

thought " Look, 

They rode so slowly and they look'd Here comes a laggard hanging down 

so pale, his head. 

That each had suffer 'd some exceed- Who seems no bolder than a beaten 

ing wrong. hound ; 

For he was ever saying to him- Come, we will slay him and will 

self, have his horse 

" O I that wasted time to tend upon And armor, and his damsel shall be 

her, ours." 
To compass her with sweet observ- 
ances, Then Enid ponder'd in her heart, 
To dress her beautifully and keep and said : 

her true " — " I will go back a little to my lord, 



GERAINT AND ENID 237 

And I will tell him all their caitiff Swung from his brand a windy buf- 

talk; fet out 

For, be he wroth even to slaying me, Once, twice, to right, to left, and 

Far liefer by his dear hand had I stunn'd the twain 

die. Or slew them, and dismounting like 

Than that my lord should suffer a man 

loss or shame." That skins the wild beast after slay- 
ing him, 

Then she went back some paces Stript from the three dead wolves of 

of return woman born 

Met his full frown timidly firm, and The three gay suits of armor which 

said ; they wore, 

" My lord, I saw three bandits by the And let the bodies lie, but bound 

rock the suits 

Waiting to fall on you, and heard Of armor on their horses, each on 

them boast each. 

That they would slay you, and pos- And tied the bridle-reins of all the 

sess your horse three 

And armor, and your damsel should Together, and said to her, " Drive 

be theirs." them on 

Before you ; " and she drove them 

He made a wrathful answer; thro' the waste. 

" Did I wish 
Your warning or your silence? one 

command He follow'd nearer: ruth began to 

I laid upon you, not to speak to me, work 

And thus ye keep it! Well, then, Against his anger in him, while he 

look — for now, watch'd 

Whether ye wish me victory or de- The being he loved best in all the 

feat, world, 

Long for my life, or hunger for my With difficulty in mild obedience 

death, Driving them on : he fain had spoken 

Yourself shall see my vigor is not to her, 

lost." And loosed in words of sudden fire 

the wrath 

Then Enid waited pale and sor- And smolder'd wrong that burnt 

rowful, him all within ; 

And down upon him bare the bandit But evermore it seem'd an easier 

three. thing 

And at the midmost charging, At once without remorse to strike 

Prince Geraint her dead, 

Drave the long spear a cubit thro' Than to cry " Halt," and to her own 

his breast bright face 

And out beyond; and then against Accuse her of the least immodesty: 

his brace And thus tongue-tied, it made him 

Of comrades, each of whom had wroth the more 

broken on him That she could speak whom his own 

A lance that splinter'd like an icicle, ear had heard 



238 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Call herself false: and suffering thus I save a life dearer to me than 

he made mine." 
Minutes an age: but in scarce longer 

time And she abode his coming, and 

Than at Caerleon the full-tided said to him 

Usk, With timid firmness, " Have I leave 

Before he turn to fall seaward again, to speak? " 

Pauses, did Enid, keeping watch. He said, " Ye take it, speaking," and 

behold she spoke. 
In the first shallow shade of a deep 

wood, " There lurk three villains yonder 

Before a gloom of stubborn-shafted in the wood, 

oaks. And each of them is wholly arm'd, 

Three other horsemen waiting, and one 

wholly arm'd. Is larger-Hmb'd than you are, and 

Whereof one seem'd far larger than they say 

her lord, That they will fall upon you while 

And shook her pulses, crying, " Look, ye iiass." 

a prize! 

Three horses and three goodly suits To which he flung a wrathful 

of arms, answer back: 

And all in charge of whom? a girl: "And if there were an hundred in 

set on." the wood, 

" Nay," said the second, " yonder And every man were larger-limb'd 

comes a knight." than I, 

The third, " A craven ; how he hangs And all at once should sally out 

his head." upon me. 

The giant answer'd merrily, " Yea, I swear it would not ruffle me so 

but one? much 

Wait here, and when he passes fall As you that not obey me. Stand 

upon him." aside. 

And if I fall, cleave to the better 
man." 
And Enid ponder'd in her heart 

and said. And Enid stood aside to wait the 

*' I will abide the coming of my event, 

lord. Not dare to watch the combat, only 

And I will tell him all their villainy. breathe 

My lord is weary with the fight be- Short fits of prayer, at every stroke 

fore, a breath. 

And they will fall upon him un- And he, she dreaded most, bare 

awares. down upon him. 

I needs must disobey him for his Aim'd at the helm, his lance err'd; 

good; but Geraint's, 

How should I dare obey him to his A little in the late encounter 

harm? strain'd, 

Needs must I speak, and tho' he kill Struck thro' the bulky bandit's corse* 

me for it, let home, 



GERAINT AND ENID 239 

And then brake short, and down his Together, and said to her, " Drive 

enemy roU'd, them on 

And there lay still; as he that tells Before you," and she drove them 

the tale thro' the wood. 
Saw once a great piece of a promon- 

^TM ^P'l 1- • •. He follow'd nearer still: the pain 

1 hat had a saplmg growmg on it, h h H 

T- , , , ,-rc' -J To keep them in the wild ways of 

t rom the long shore-cim s wmdy ^u j 

11 L L u the wood, 

walls to the beach, rj^ ^ i ^u i j -^t •• 

. J , ,. .,, J ^ , Iwo sets of three laden with jmg- 

And there he still, and yet the sap- ,. 

,. _ -^ ling arms, 

r, ii_" ^ rr^Tj* Together, served a little to disedge 

So lay the man transhxt. His ^, '^ , ' j- ^u . • u ^ t 

■' . 1 he sharpness of that pain about her 

craven pair li f • 

Of comrades making slowlier at the a j .1 \u i n 

r> • And they themselves, like creatures 

rrince, j , 

When now they saw their bulwark o.-.uju jrii' j 

J- ,, ^ J i>ut into bad hands fall n, and now 

falkn, stood ; , 

On whom the victor, to confound y, u j-^ jj • i ' i ^u • 

, By bandits groom d, prick d their 

them more, -^ ,. , ^ ^ j x u 

c 'J vu u- * -ui . light ears, and felt 

Spurr d with his terrible war-cry ^^ ^ n • j ^ j 

^ r Her low nrm voice and tender gov- 

for as one, 

--nv- . 1- ^ ^ ^ ernment. 
1 hat listens near a torrent moun- 
tain-brook, 

All thro' the crash of the near cata- So thro' the green gloom of the 

ract hears wood they past. 

The drumming thunder of the huger And issuing under open heavens 

fall beheld 

At distance, where the soldiers wont A little town with towers, upon a 

to hear rock, 
His voice in battle, and be kindled And close beneath, a meadow gem- 
by it, like chased 
And foemen scared, like that false In the brown wild, and mowers 

pair who turn'd mowing in it: 

Flying, but, overtaken, died the death And down a rocky pathway from the 

Themselves had wrought on many place 

an innocent. There came a fair-hair'd youth, that 

in his hand 

Thereon Geraint, dismounting. Bare victual for the mowers: and 

pick'd the lance Geraint 

That pleased him best, and drew Had ruth again on Enid looking 

from those dead wolves pale : 

Their three gay suits of armor, each Then, moving downward to the 

from each, meadow ground, 

And bound them on their horses. He, when the fair-hair'd youth came 

each on each, by him, said, 

And tied the bridle-reins of all the "Friend, let her eat; the damsel is 

three so faint." 



240 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" Yea, willingly," replied the youth ; Then said Geraint, " I wish no 

"and thou, better fare: 

My lord, eat also, tho' the fare is I never ate with angrier appetite 

coarse, Than when I left your mowers din- 

And only meet for mowers ; " then nerless. 

set down And into no Earl's palace will I go. 

His basket, and dismounting on the I know, God knows, too much of 

sward palaces ! 

They let the horses graze, and ate And if he want me, let him come to 

themselves. me. 

And Enid took a little delicately. But hire us some fair chamber for 

Less having stomach for it than de- the night, 

sire And stalling for the horses, and 

To close with her lord's pleasure; return 

but Geraint With victual for these men, and let 

Ate all the mowers' victual un- us know." 

awares, 

And when he found all empty, was " Yea, my kind lord," said the 

amazed; glad youth, and went, 

And " Boy," said he, " I have eaten Held his head high, and thought 

all, but take himself a knight, 

A horse and arms for guerdon; And up the rocky pathway disap- 

choose the best." pear'd, 

He, reddening in extremity of de- Leading the horse, and they were 

light, left alone. 
" My lord, you overpay me fifty- 
fold." But when the Prince had brought 
" Ye will be all the wealthier," cried his errant eyes 

the Prince. Home from the rock, sideways he let 

" I take it as free gift, then," said them glance 

the boy, At Enid, where she droopt: his own 

" Not guerdon ; for myself can easily, false doom. 

While your good damsel rests, re- That shadow of mistrust should 

turn, and fetch never cross 

Fresh victual for these mowers of our Betwixt them, came upon him, and 

Earl; he sigh'd ; 

For these are his, and all the field Then with another humorous ruth 

is his, remark'd 

And I myself am his; and I will tell The lusty mowers laboring dinner- 

him less, 

How great a man thou art: he loves And watch'd the sun blaze on the 

to know turning scythe, 

When men of mark are in his terri- And after nodded sleepily in the 

tory: heat. 

And he will have thee to his palace But she, remembering her old ruin'd 

here, hall, 

And serve thee costlier than with And all the windy clamor of the 

mowers' fare." daws 



GERAINT AND ENID 241 

About her hollow turret, pluck'd the Found Enid with the corner of his 

grass eye, 

There growing longest by the mead- And knew her sitting sad and soli- 

ow's edge, tary. 

And into many a listless annulet, Then cried Geraint for wine and 

Now over, now beneath her mar- goodly cheer 

riage ring. To feed the sudden guest, and sump- 
Wove and unwove it, till the boy tuously 

return'd According to his fashion, bade the 

And told them of a chamber, and host 

they went; Call in what men soever were his 

Where, after saying to her, " If ye friends, 

will. And feast with these in honor of 

Call for the woman of the house," their Earl; 

to which " And care not for the cost ; the cost 

She answer'd, " Thanks, my lord ; " is mine." 

the two remain'd 
Apart by all the chamber's width, 

and mute And wine and food were brought, 

As creatures voiceless thro' the fault and Earl Limours 

of birth, Drank till he jested with all ease. 

Or two wild men supporters of a and told 

shield, Free tales, and took the word and 

Painted, who stare at open space, nor play'd upon it, 

glance And made it of two colors; for his 

The one at other, parted by the talk, 

shield. When wine and free companions 

kindled him, 

On a sudden, many a voice along Was wont to glance and sparkle like 

the street, a gem 

And heel against the pavement echo- Of fifty facets; thus he moved the 

ing, burst Prince 

Their drowse; and either started To laughter and his comrades to 

while the door, applause. 

Push'd from without, drave back- Then, when the Prince was merry, 

ward to the wall, ask'd Limours, 

And midmost of a rout of roisterers, " Your leave, my lord, to cross the 

Femininely fair and dissolutely pale, room, and speak 

Her suitor in old years before Ger- To your good damsel there who sits 

aint, apart, 

Enter'd, the wild lord of the place. And seems so lonely?" "My free 

Limours. leave," he said ; 

He moving up with pliant courtli- "Get her to speak: she doth not 

ness, speak to me." 

Greeted Geraint full face, but Then rose Limours, and looking at 

stealthily, his feet. 

In the mid-warmth of welcome and Like him who tries the bridge he 

graspt hand, fears may fail, 



242 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Crost and came near, lifted adoring A wretched insult on you, dumbly 

eyes, speaks 

Bow'd at her side and utter'd whis- Your story, that this man loves you 

peringly: no more. 

Your beauty is no beauty to »him 
now : 

" Enid, the pilot star of my lone A common chance — right well I 

life, know it — pall'd — 

Enid, my early and my only love, For I know men : nor will ye win 

Enid, the loss of whom hath turn'd him back, 

me wild — For the man's love once gone never 

What chance is this? how is it I see returns. 

you here ? But here is one who loves you as of 

Ye are in my power at last, are in old ; 

my power. With more exceeding passion than 

Yet fear me not: I call mine own of old: 

self wild. Good, speak the word : my followers 

But keep a touch of sweet civility ring him round : 

Here in the heart and waste of wil- He sits unarm'd; I hold a finger up; 

derness. They understand: nay; I do not 

I thought, but that your father came mean blood : 

between. Nor need ye look so scared at what I 

In former days you saw me favor- say: 

ably. My malice is no deeper than a moat, 

And if it were so do not keep it No stronger than a wall: there is the 

back : keep ; 

Make me a little happier: let me He shall not cross us more; speak 

know it: but the word: 

Owe you me nothing for a life half- Or speak it not; but then by Him 

lost? that made me 

Yea, yea, the whole dear debt of all The one true lover whom you ever 

you are. own'd, 

And, Enid, you and he, I see with I will make use of all the power I 

joy, have. 

Ye sit apart, you do not speak to O pardon me! the madness of that 

him, hour. 

You come with no attendance, page When first I parted from thee, 

or maid, moves me yet." 
To serve you — doth he love you as 

of old ? 

For, call it lovers' quarrels, yet I At this the tender sound of his 

know own voice 

Tho' men may bicker with the things And sweet self-pity, or the fancy of 

they love, it. 

They would not make them laugh- Made his eye moist; but Enid 

able in all eyes, fear'd his eyes. 

Not while they loved them; and Moist as they were, wine-heated 

your wretched dress, from the feast; 



GERAINT AND ENID 243 

And answer'd with such craft as All to be there against a sudden 

women use, need ; 
Guilty or guiltless, to stave off a Then dozed awhile herself, but over- 
chance toil'd 
That breaks upon them perilously, By that day's grief and travel, ever- 

and said : more 

Seem'd catching at a rootless thorn, 

" Earl, if you love me as in for- and then 

mer years, Went slipping down horrible preci- 

Atnd do not practise on me, come pices, 

with morn, And strongly striking out her limbs 

And snatch me from him as by vio- awoke ; 

lence; Then thought she heard the wild 

Leave me to-night: I am weary to Earl at the door, 

the death." With all his rout of random fol- 
lowers. 

Low at leave-taking, with his Sound on a dreadful trumpet, sum- 

brandish'd plume moning iier; 

Brushing his instep, bow'd the all- Which was the red cock shouting to 

amorous Earl, the light, 

And the stout Prince bade him a loud As the gray dawn stole o'er the 

good-night. dewy world, 

He moving homeward babbled to his And glimmer'd on his armor in the 

men, room. 

How Enid never loved a man but And once again she rose to look at 

him, it, 

Nor cared a broken egg-shell for her But touch'd it unawares: jangling, 

lord. the casque 

Fell, and he started up and stared at 

But Enid left alone with Prince her. 

Geraint, Then breaking his command of 

Debating his command of silence silence given, 

given, She told him all that Earl Limours 

And that she now perforce must had said, 

violate it, Except the passage that he loved her 

Held commune with herself, and not; 

while she held Nor left untold the craft herself had 

He fell asleep, and Enid had no used ; 

heart But ended with apology so sweet, 

To wake him, but hung o'er him, Low-spoken, and of so few words, 

wholly pleased and seem'd 

To find him yet unwounded after So justified by that necessity, 

flight, ^ That tho' he thought, " Was it for 

And hear him breathing low and him she wept 

equally. In Devon?" he but gave a wrathful 

Anon she rose, and stepping lightly, groan, 

heap'd Saying, " Your sweet faces make 

The pieces of his armor in one place, good fellows fools 



244 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And traitors. Call the host and bid "Yea so," said he, "do it: be not 

him bring too wise; 

Charger and palfrey." So she glided Seeing that ye are wedded to a man, 

out Not all mismated with a yawning 

Among the heavy breathings of the clown, 

house, But one with arms to guard his head 

And like a household Spirit at the and yours, 

walls With eyes to find you out however 

Beat, till she woke the sleepers, and far, 

return'd: And ears to hear you even in his 

Then tending her rough lord, tho' dreams." 

all unask'd, 

In silence, did him service as a ^j^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^,^ ^^^ ^^^^,^ ^^ 

squire; keenly at her 

Till issuing arm'd he found the host ^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^-^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^,^ 

and cried, ^.^jj . 

"Thy reckoning, friend?" and ere ^^^ ^^^^ ^.^^.^ ^^^^ ^^.^^ ^ ^^^^. 

he learnt it. Take ^^^ ^^^j 

Five horses and their armors;" and q^ j^^ .^'^^^^ ^^.^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^y^ 

the host ^ j^^j. Q^ 

Suddenly honest, answer d in amaze, ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^.^^^^ 

My lord, I scarce have spent the ^.^ ^^^ 

worth of one!" ^^^^ Geraint look'd and was not 

" Ye will be all the wealthier, said satisfied 

the Prince, 
And then to Enid, " Forward ! and 

to-day Then forward by a way which, 

I charge you, Enid, more especially, beaten broad, 

What thing soever ye may hear, or Led from the territory of false 

see Limours 

Or fancy (tho' I count it of small To the waste earldom of another 

use carl. 

To charge you) that ye speak not Doorm, whom his shaking vassals 

but obey." call'd the Bull, 

Went Enid with her sullen follower 
on. 

And Enid answer'd, " Yea, my Once she look'd back, and when she 

lord, I know saw him ride 

Your wish, and would obey; but rid- More near by many a rood than yes- 

ing first, ter-morn, 

I hear the violent threats you do not It well-nigh made her cheerful; till 

hear, Geraint 

I see the danger which you cannot Waving an angry hand as who 

see: should say 

Then not to give you warning, that " Ye watch me," sadden'd all her 

seems hard; heart again. 

Almost beyond me: yet I would But while the sun yet beat a dewy 

obey." blade 



GERAINT AND ENID 



245 



The sound of many a heavily-gallop- 
ing hoof 

Smote on her ear, and turning round 
she saw 

Dust, and the points of lances bicker 
in it. 

Then not to disobey her lord's be- 
hest, 

And yet to give him warning, for he 
rode 

As if he heard not, moving back she 
held 

Her finger up, and pointed to the 
dust. 

At which the warrior in his obsti- 
nacy. 

Because she kept the letter of his 
word, 

Was in a manner pleased, and turn- 
ing, stood. 

And in a moment after, wild Li- 
mours, 

Borne on a black horse, like a thun- 
der-cloud 

Whose skirts are loosen'd by the 
breaking storm, 

Half ridden off with by the thing 
he rode, 

And all in passion uttering a dry 
shriek, 

Dash'd on Geraint, who closed with 
him, and bore 

Down by the length of lance and 
arm beyond 

The crupper, and so left him stunn'd 
or dead. 

And overthrew the next that follow'd 
him. 

And blindly rush'd on all the rout 
behind. 

But at the flash and motion of the 
man 

They vanish'd panic-stricken, like a 
shoal 

Of darting fish, that on a summer 
morn 

Adown the crystal dykes at Came- 
lot 



Come slipping o'er their shadows on 

the sand. 
But if a man who stands upon the 

brink 
But lift a shining hand against the 

sun, 
There is not left the twinkle of a fin 
Betwixt the cressy islets white in 

flower ; 
So, scared but at the motion of the 

man, 
Fled all the boon companions of the 

Earl, 
And left him lying in the public 

way; 
So vanish friendships only made in 

wine. 



Then like a stormy sunlight 

smiled Geraint, 
Who saw the chargers of the two 

that fell 
Start from their fallen lords, and 

wildly fly, 
Mixt with the flyers. " Horse and 

man," he said, 
" All of one mind and all right- 
honest friends ! 
Not a hoof left: and I methinks till 

now 
Was honest — paid with horses and 

with arms; 
I cannot steal or plunder, no nor 

beg: 
And so what say ye, shall we strip 

him there 
Your lover? has your palfrey heart 

enough 
To bear his armor? shall we fast, or 

dine? 
No? — then do thou, being right 

honest, pray 
That we may meet the horsemen of 

Earl Doorm, 
I too would still be honest." Thus 

he said : 
And sadly gazing on her bridle-reins. 



246 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And answering not one word, she Upon her, and she wept beside the 
led the way. way. 

But as a man to whom a dreadful And many past, but none re- 
loss garded her, 

Falls in a far land and he knows it For in that realm of lawless turbu- 

not, lence, 

But coming back he learns it, and A woman weeping for her murder'd 

the loss mate 

So pains him that he sickens nigh to Was cared as much for as a summer 

death ; shower : 

So fared it with Geraint, who being One took him for a victim of Earl 

prick'd Doorm, 

In combat with the follower of Nor dared to waste a perilous pity 

Limours, on him: 

Bled underneath his armor secretly. Another hurrying past, a man-at- 
And so rode on, nor told his gentle arms, 

wife Rode on a mission to the bandit 
What ail'd him, hardly knowing it Earl; 

himself, Half whistling and half singing a 
Till his eye darken'd and his helmet coarse song, 

wagg'd ; He drove the dust against her veil- 
And at a sudden swerving of the less eyes: 

road. Another, flying from the wrath of 
Tho' happily down on a bank of Doorm 

grass, Before an ever-fancied arrow, made 

The Prince, without a word, from The long way smoke beneath him in 

his horse fell. his fear; 

At which her palfrey whinnying 

And Enid heard the clashing of , , ,, .' , . , 

, • f ,1 And scour d mto the coppices and 

Suddenly came, and at his side all -itti ., , ' , , 

I While the great charger stood, 

D. • , J ^u I .. ' grieved like a man. 

ismounting, loosed the fastenings " 

of his arms. 
Nor let her true hand falter, nor But at the point of noon the huge 

blue eye Earl Doorm, 

Moisten, till she had lighted on his Broad-faced with under-fringe of 

wound, russet beard. 

And tearing off her veil of faded silk Bound on a foray, rolling eyes of 
Had bared her forehead to the blis- prey, 

tering sun. Came riding with a hundred lances 
And swathed the hurt that drain'd up ; 

her dear lord's life. But ere he came, like one that hails 
Then after all was done that hand a ship, 

could do. Cried out with a big voice, "What, 
She rested, and her desolation came is he dead ? " 



GERAINT AND ENID 247 

■** No, no, not dead!" she answer'd Yet raised and laid him on a litter- 
in all haste. bier, 
" Would some of your kind people Such as they brought upon their 

take him up, forays out 

And bear him hence out of this cruel For those that might be wounded ; 

sun? laid him on it 

Most sure am I, quite sure, he is not All in the hollow of his shield, and 

dead." took 

And bore him to the naked hall of 

Then said Earl Doorm : " Well, Doorm, 

if he be not dead, (His gentle charger following him 

Why wail ye for him thus? ye seem unled) 

a child. And cast him and the bier in which 

And be he dead, I count you for a he lay 

fool ; Down on an oaken settle in the hall, 

Your wailing will not quicken him: And then departed, hot in haste to 

dead or not, join 

Ye mar a comely face with idiot Their luckier mates, but growling as 

tears. before, 

Yet, since the face is comely — some And cursing their lost time, and the 

of you, dead man, 

Here, take him up, and bear him to And their own Earl, and their own 

our hall: souls, and her 

An if he live, we will have him of They might as well have blest her: 

our band ; she was deaf 

And if he die, why earth has earth To blessing or to cursing save from 

enough one. 
To hide him. See ye take the 

charger, too. So for long hours sat Enid by her 

A noble one." lord. 

There in the naked hall, propping his 
He spake, and past away, head. 
But left two brawny spearmen, who And chafing his pale hands, and call- 
advanced, ing to him. 
Each growling like a dog, when his Till at the last he waken'd from his 

good bone swoon, 
Seems to be pluck'd at by the village And found his own dear bride prop- 
boys ping his head. 
Who love to vex him eating, and he And chafing his faint hands, and 

fears . calling to him ; 

To lose his bone, and lays his foot And felt the warm tears falling on 

upon it, his face; 

Gnawing and growling: so the And said to his own heart, "She 

ruffians growl'd, weeps for me:" 

Fearing to lose, and all for a dead And yet lay still, and feign'd himself 

man, as dead, 

Their chance of booty from the That he might prove her to the 

morning's raid, uttermost. 



248 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And say to his own heart, " She And rising on the sudden he said, 

weeps for me." "Eat! 

I never yet beheld a thing so pale. 

But in the falling afternoon re- God's curse, it makes me mad to see 

turn'd you weep. 

The huge Earl Doorm with plunder Eat! Look yourself. Good luck 

to the hall. had your good man, 

His lusty spearmen foUow'd him For were I dead who is it would 

with noise: weep for me? 

Each hurling down a heap of things Sweet lady, never since I first drew 

that rang breath 

Against the pavement, cast his lance Have I beheld a lily like yourself. 

aside. And so there lived some color in 

And doff'd his helm: and then there your cheek, 

flutter'd in. There is not one among my gentle- 

Half-bold, half-frightened, with di- women 

lated eyes, Were fit to wear your slipper for a 

A tribe of women, dress'd in many glove. 

hues, But listen to me, and by me be ruled, 

And mingled with the spearmen: And I will do the thing I have not 

and Earl Doorm done. 

Struck with a knife's haft hard For ye shall share my earldom with 

against the board, me, C'rl, 

And call'd for flesh and wine to feed And we will live like two birds in 

his spears. one nest, 

And men brought in whole hogs and And I will fetch you forage from all 

quarter beeves, fields, 

And all the hall was dim with steam For I compel all creatures to my 

of flesh: will." 
And none spake word, but all sat 

down at once, He spoke: the brawny spearman 

And ate with tumult in the naked let his cheek 

hall, Bulge with the unswallow'd piece^ 

Feeding like horses when you hear and turning stared; 

them feed ; While some, whose souls the old 

Till Enid shrank far back into her- serpent long had drawn 

self, Down, as the worm draws in the 

To shun the wild ways of the lawless wither'd leaf 

tribe. And makes it earth, hiss'd each at 

But when Earl Doorm had eaten all other's ear 

he would. What shall not be recorded — 

He roll'd his eyes about the hall, women they, 

and found Women, or what had been those 

A damsel drooping in a corner of it. gracious things, 

Then he remember'd her, and how But now desired the humbling of 

she wept ; their best, 

And out of her there came a power Yea, would have help'd him to it: 

upon him; and all at once 



GERAINT AND ENID 249 

They hated her, who took no thought Before I well have drunken, scarce 

of them, can eat: 

But answer'd in low voice, her meek Drink, therefore, and the wine wall 

head yet change your will." 

Drooping, " I pray you of your cour- 

TT L^^-^^' . • 1 u M " Not so," she cried, " by Heaven, 

He bemg as he is, to let me be. j ^jj^ ^^^ ^^-^^ 

Till my dear lord arise and bid me 
She spake so low he hardly heard do it, 

her speak, And drink with me ; and if he rise no 
But like a mighty patron, satisfied more. 

With what himself had done so gra- i ^{\i not look at wine until I die." 

ciously, 
Assumed that she had thank'd him, . , . , » , n , i 3 

adding, " Yea, V In ^"'" ' 

Eat and be glad, for I account you ^^ '^^^ ,', , . , , • 

• >> JNow gnaw d his under, now his 

upper lip, 

f,, ,j ,, « u And coming up close to her, said at 

She answer d meekly, How , ^ 

should I be glad ..(.j^j /^^ J g^^ g^^^^ ^^^^. 

Henceforth in all the world at any- JcVc 

TT -1 '"^' , , . Ill Take warning: yonder man is surely 

Until my lord arise and look upon d ad • 

"^^' And I compel all creatures to my 

will. 

Here the huge Earl cried out upon jsj^^ ^^^ ^^^^ drink? And wherefore 

her talk, ^aQ fQj- one. 

As all but empty heart and weari- ^^o put your beauty to this flout 

"^^^ and scorn 

And sickly nothing; suddenly seized gy dressing it in rags? Amazed am 

on her, j 

And bare her by main violence to the Beholding how ye butt against my 

board, ^vish, 

And thrust the dish before her, cry- xh^^. j forbear you thus: cross me 

ing, ' Eat. no more. 

At least put off to please me this 
" No, no," said Enid, vext, " I poor gown, 

will not eat This silken rag, this beggar-woman's 
Till yonder man upon the bier arise, weed : 

And eat with me." " Drink, then," I love that beauty should go beauti- 

he answer'd. "Herel" fully: 

(And fiU'd a horn with wine and For see ye not my gentlewomen 

held it to her), here, 

"Lo! I, myself, when flush'd with How gay, how suited to the house of 

fight, or hot, one 

God's curse, with anger — often I Who loves that beauty should go 

myself, beautifully ? 



250 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Rise therefore; robe yourself in this: 
obey." 

He spoke, and one among his gen- 
tle-women 
Display'd a splendid silk of foreign 

loom, 
Where like a shoaling sea the lovely 

blue 
Play'd into green, and thicker down 

the front 
With jewels than the sward with 

drops of dew, 
When all night long a cloud clings 

to the hill. 
And with the dawn ascending lets 

the day 
Strike where it clung: so thickly 

shone the gems. 

But Enid answer'd, harder to be 
moved 

Than hardest tyrants in their day of 
power, 

With lifelong injuries burning un- 
avenged. 

And now their hour has come; and 
Enid said: 

" In this poor gown my dear lord 

found, me first, 
And loved me serving in my father's 

hall : 
In this poor gown I rode with him 

to court. 
And there the Queen array'd me 

like the sun: 
In this poor gown he bade me clothe 

myself, 
When now we rode upon this fatal 

quest 
Of honor, where no honor can be 

gain'd : 
And this poor gown I will not cast 

aside 
Until himself arise a living man, 
And bid me cast it. I have griefs 

enough : 



Pray you be gentle, pray you let me 
be: 

I never loved, can never love but 
him: 

Yea, God, I pray you of your gen- 
tleness, 

He being as he is, to let me be." 

Then strode the brute Earl up 

and down his hall. 
And took his russet beard between 

his teeth ; 
Last, coming up quite close, and in 

his mood 
Crying, " I count it of no more avail, 
Dame, to be gentle than ungentle 

with you ; 
Take my salute," unknightly with 

flat hand. 
However lightly, smote her on the 

cheek. 

Then Enid, in her utter helpless- 
ness. 

And since she thought, " He had not 
dared to do it. 

Except he surely knew my lord was 
dead," 

Sent forth a sudden sharp and bitter 
cry. 

As of a wild thing taken in a trap, 

WTiich sees the trapper coming thro' 
the wood. 

This heard Geraint, and grasping 

at his sword, 
(It lay beside him in the hollow 

shield). 
Made but a single bound, and with 

a sweep of it 
Shore thro' the swarthy neck, and 

like a ball 
The russet-bearded head roll'd on 

the floor. 
So died Earl Doorm by him he 

counted dead. 
And all the men and women In the 

hall 



GERAINT AND ENID 251 

Rose when they saw the dead man Neigh'd with all gladness as they 

rise, and fled came, and stoop'd 

Yelling as from a specter, and the With a low whinny toward the pair: 

two and she 

Were left alone together, and he Kiss'd the white star upon his noble 

said : front, 

Glad also; then Geraint upon the 

" Enid, I have used you worse horse 

than that dead man ; Mounted, and reach'd a hand, and 

Done you more wrong: we both on his foot 

have undergone She set her own and climb'd ; he 

That trouble which has left me turn'd his face 

thrice your own: And kiss'd her climbing, and she 

Henceforward I will rather die than cast her arms 

doubt. About him, and at once they rode 

And here I lay this penance on my- away. 

self. 

Not, tho' mine own ears heard you And never yet, since high in Para- 

yestermorn — dise 

You thought me sleeping, but I O'er the four rivers the first roses 

heard you say, blew, 

I heard you say, that you were no Came purer pleasure unto mortal 

true wife: kind 

I swear I will not ask your meaning Than lived thro' her, who in that 

in it: perilous hour 

I do believe yourself against your- Put hand to hand beneath her hus- 

self, band's heart, 

And will henceforward rather die And felt him hers again: she did not 

than doubt." weep, 

But o'er her meek eyes came a happy 

And Enid could not say one ten- mist 

der word. Like that which kept the heart of 

She felt so blunt and stupid at the Eden green 

heart : Before the useful trouble of the rain : 

She only pray'd him, " Fly, they will Yet not so misty were her meek blue 

return eyes 

And slay you; fly, your charger is As not to see before them on the 

without, path, 

My palfrey lost." " Then, Enid, Right in the gateway of the bandit 

shall you ride hold, 

Behind me." " Yea," said Enid, A knight of Arthur's court, who laid 

" let us go." his lance 

And moving out they found the In rest, and made as if to fall upon 

stately horse, him. 

WTio now no more a vassal to the Then, fearing for his hurt and loss 

thief, of blood. 

But free to stretch his limbs in law- She, with her mind all full of what 

ful fight, had chanced, 



2^2 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Shriek'd to the stranger, " Slay not a Are scatter'd," and he pointed to the 

dead man! " field, 

" The voice of Enid," said the Where, huddled here and there on 

knight; but she, mound and knoll, 

Beholding it was Edyrn, son of Were men and women staring and 

Nudd, aghast. 

Was moved so much the more, and While some yet fled ; and then he 

shriek'd again, plainlier told 

" O cousin, slay not him who gave How the huge Earl lay slain within 

you life." his hall. 

And Edyrn moving frankly forward But w'hen the knight besought him, 

spake: "Follow me, 

" My lord Geraint, I greet you with Prince, to the camp, and in the 

all love; King's own ear 

I took you for a bandit knight of Speak what has chanced ; ye surely 

Doorm ; have endured 

And fear not, Enid, I should fall Strange chances here alone ; " that 

upon him, other flush'd. 

Who love you. Prince, with some- And hung his head, and halted in 

thing of the love reply, 
Wherewith we love the Heaven that Fearing the mild face of the blame- 
chastens us. less King, 
For once when I was up so high in And after madness acted question 

pride ask'd : 

That I was halfway down the slope Till Edyrn crying, "If ye will not 

to Hell, go 

By overthrowing me you threw me To Arthur, then will Arthur come 

higher. to you," 

Now, made a knight of Arthur's " Enough," he said, " I follow," and 

Table Round, they went. 

And since I knew this Earl, when I But Enid in their going had two 

myself fears. 

Was half a bandit in my lawless One from the bandit scatter'd in the 

hour, field, 

I come the mouthpiece of our King And one from Edyrn. Every now 

to Doorm and then, 

(The King is close behind me) bid- When Edyrn rein'd his charger at 

ding him her side, 

Disband himself, and scatter all his She shrank a little. In a hollow 

powers, land. 

Submit, and hear the judgment of From which old fires have broken, 

the King." men may fear 

Fresh fire and ruin. He, perceiv- 
ing, said: 
" He hears the judgment of the 

King of kings," 

Cried the wan Prince; "and lo, the "Fair and dear cousin, you that 

powers of Doorm most had cause 



GERAINT AND ENID 255 

To fear me, fear no longer, I am And set his foot upon me, and give 

changed. me life. 

Yourself were first the blameless There was I broken down; there was 

cause to make I saved : 

My nature's prideful sparkle in the Tho' thence I rode all-shamed, 

blood hating the life 

Break into furious flame; being re- He gave me, meaning to be rid of it, 

pulsed And all the penance the Queen laid 

By Yniol and yourself, I schemed upon me 

and wrought Was but to rest awhile within her 

Until I overturn'd him ; then set up court ; 

(With one main purpose ever at my Where first as sullen as a beast new- 
heart) caged, 

My haughty jousts, and took a para- And waiting to be treated like a 

mour; wolf, 

Did her mock-honor as the fairest Because I knew my deeds were 

fair, known, I found, 

And, toppling over all antagonism. Instead of scornful pity or pure 

So wax'd in pride, that I believed scorn, 

myself Such fine reserve and noble reticence. 

Unconquerable, for I was well-nigh Manners so kind, yet stately, such a 

mad : grace 

And, but for my main purpose in Of tenderest courtesy, that I began 

these jousts, To glance behind me at my former 

I should have slain your father, life, 

seized yourself. And find that it had been the wolf's 

I lived in hope that sometime you indeed : 

would come And oft I talk'd with Dubric, the 

To these my lists with him whom high saint, 

best you loved ; Who, with mild heat of holy oratory, 

And there, poor cousin, with your Subdued me somewhat to that gen- 
meek blue eyes, tleness. 

The truest eyes that ever answer'd Which, when it weds with man- 
Heaven, hood, makes a man. 

Behold me overturn and trample on And you were often there about the 

him. Queen, 

Then, had you cried, or knelt, or But saw me not, or mark'd not if j'ou 

pray'd to me, saw; 

I should not less have kill'd him. Nor did I care or dare to speak with 

And you came, — you, 

But once you came, — and with your But kept myself aloof till I was 

own true eyes changed ; 

Beheld the man you loved (I speak And fear not, cousin; I am changed 

as one indeed." 

Speaks of a service done him) over- 
throw He spoke, and Enid easily be- 

My proud self, and my purpose lieved, 

three years old. Like simple noble natures, credulous 



254 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Of what they long for, good in friend The world will not believe a man 

or foe, repents: 

There most in those who most have And this wise world of ours is 

done them ill. mainly right. 

And when they reach'd the camp the Full seldom doth a man repent, or 

King himself use 

Advanced to greet them, and behold- Both grace and will to pick the 

ing her vicious quitch 

Tho' pale, yet happy, ask'd her not Of blood and custom wholly out of 

a word, him, 

But went apart with Edyrn, whom And make all clean, and plant himself 

he held afresh. 

In converse for a little, and return'd, Edyrn has done it, weeding all his 

And, gravely smiling, lifted her from heart 

horse, As I will weed this land before I go. 

And kiss'd her with all pureness, I, therefore, made him of our Table 

brotherlike. Round, 

And show'd an empty tent allotted Not rashly, but have proved him 

her, everyway 
And glancing for a minute, till he One of our noblest, our most valor- 
saw her ous, 
Pass into it, turn'd to the Prince, Sanest and most obedient: and indeed 

and said: This work of Edyrn wrought upon 

himself 

" Prince, when of late ye pray'd After a life of violence, seems to me 

me for my leave A thousand-fold more great and won- 

To move to your own land, and derful 

there defend Than if some knight of mine, risking 

Your marches, I was prick'd with his life, 

some reproof. My subject with my subjects under 

As one that let foul wrong stagnate him, 

and be, Should make an onslaught single on a 

By having look'd too much thro' realm 

alien eyes, Of robbers, tho' he slew them one by 

And wrought too long with dele- one, 

gated hands, And were himself nigh wounded to 

Not used mine own: but now be- the death." 

hold me come 

To cleanse this common sewer of all So spake the King; low bow'd the 

my realm. Prince, and felt 

With Edyrn and with others: have His work was neither great nor won- 

ye look'd derful. 

At Edyrn? have ye seen how nobly And past to Enid's tent; and thither 

changed? came 

This work of his is great and won- The King's own leech to look into 

derful. his hurt; 

His very face with change of heart And Enid tended on him there; and 

is changed. there 



GERAINT AND ENID 255 

Her constant motion round him, and And clothed her in apparel like the 

the breath day. 

Of her sweet tendance hovering over And tho' Geraint could never take 

him, again 

Fill'd all the genial courses of his That comfort from their converse 

blood which he took 

With deeper and with ever deeper Before the Queen's fair name was 

love breathed upon, 

As the south-west that blowing Bala He rested well content that all was 

lake well. 

Fills all the sacred Dee. So past the Thence after tarrying for a space they 

days. rode. 

And fifty knights rode with them to 

But while Geraint lay healing of the shores 

his hurt, Of Severn, and they past to their own 

The blameless King went forth and land, 

cast his eyes And there he kept the justice of the 

On each of all whom Uther left in King 

charge So vigorously yet mildly, that all 

Long since, to guard the justice of hearts 

the King: Applauded, and the spiteful whisper 

He look'd and found them wanting; died: 

and as now And being ever foremost in the 

Men weed the white horse on the chase, 

Berkshire hills And victor at the tilt and tourna- 

To keep him bright and clean as ment, 

heretofore, They call'd him the great Prince and 

He rooted out the slothful officer man of men. 

Or guilty, which for bribe had wink'd But Enid, whom her ladies loved to 

at wrong, call 

And in their chairs set up a stronger Enid the Fair, a grateful people 

race named 

With hearts and hands, and sent a Enid the Good ; and in their halls 

thousand men arose 

To till the wastes, and moving every- The cry of children, Enids and Ger- 

where aints 

Clear'd the dark places and let in the Of times to be; nor did he doubt her 

law, more. 

And broke the bandit holds and But rested in her fealty, till he 

cleansed the land. crown'd 

A happy life with a fair death, and 

Then, when Geraint was whole fell 

again, they past Against the heathen of the Northern 

With Arthur to Caerleon upon Usk. Sea 

There the great Queen once more In battle, fighting for the blameless 

embraced her friend. King. 



2^6 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

From underneath a plume of lady- 

BALIN AND BALAN fern, 

Sang, and the sand danced at the bot- 

Pellam, the King, who held and torn of it. 

lost with Lot And on the right of Balin Balin's 

In that first war, and had his realm horse 

restored Was fast beside an alder, on the left 

But render'd tributary, fail'd of late Of Balan Balan's near a poplartree. 

To send his tribute; wherefore Ar- "Fair Sirs," said Arthur, " where- 

thur call'd fore sit ye here?" 

His treasurer, one of many years, and Balin and Balan answer'd, " For 

spake, the sake 

"Go thou with him and him and Of glory; we be mightier men than 

bring it to us, all 

Lest we should set one truer on his In Arthur's court ; that also have we 

throne. proved ; 

Man's word is God in man." For whatsoever knight against us 

came 

His Baron said Or I or he have easily overthrown." 

'" We go but barken : there be two " I, too," said Arthur, " am of 

strange knights Arthur's hall. 

Who sit near Camelot at a fountain But rather proven in his Paynim wars 

side. Than famous jousts; but see, or 
A mile beneath the forest, challenging proven or not, 
And overthrowing every knight who Whether me likewise ye can over- 
comes, throw," 
Wilt thou I undertake them as we And Arthur lightly smote the breth- 

pass, ren down, 

And send them to thee?" And lightly so return'd, and no man 

knew. 
Arthur laugh'd upon him. 

" Old friend, too old to be so young, Then Balin rose, and Balan, and 

depart, beside 

Delay not thou for ought, but let The caroling water set themselves 

them sit, again, 

Until they find a lustier than them- And spake no word until the shadow 

selves." turn'd ; 

When from the fringe of coppice 

So these departed. Early, one fair round them burst 

dawn, A spangled pursuivant, and crying 

The light-wing'd spirit of his youth " Sirs, 

return'd Rise, follow! ye be sent for by the 

On Arthur's heart; he arm'd himself King," 

and went. They follow'd ; whom when Arthur 

So coming to the fountain-side beheld seeing ask'd : 

Balin and Balan sitting statuelike, " Tell me your names ; why sat ye 

Brethren, to right and left the spring, by the well? " 

that down, Balin the stillness of a minute broke 



BALIN AND BALAN 



257 



Saying, " An unmelodlous name to To music with thine Order and the 

thee, King. 

Balin, ' the Savage ' — that addition Thy chair, a grief to all the breth- 

thine — ren, stands 

My brother and my better, this man Vacant, but thou retake it, mine 



again 



here, 
Balan. I smote upon the naked 

skull 
A thrall of thine in open hall, my 

hand 
Was gauntleted, half slew him ; for I 

heard 
He had spoken evil of me; thy just 

wrath 
Sent me a three-years' exile from 

thine eyes. 
I have not lived my life delight- 

somely : 
For I that did that violence to thy 

thrall. 
Had often wrought some fury on my- 
self. 
Saving for Balan : those three king- 
less years 
Have past — were wormwood-bitter 

to me. King, 
Methought that if we sat beside the 

well. 
And hurl'd to ground what knight 

soever spurr'd 
Against us, thou would'st take me 

gladlier back. 
And make, as ten-times worthier to 

be thine 
Than twenty Balins, Balan knight. 

I have said. 
Not so — not all. A man of thine 

to-day 
Abash'd us both, and brake my 

boast. Thy will?" 
Said Arthur, " Thou hast ever spoken So bush'd about it is with gloom, 

truth; the hall 

Thy too fierce manhood would not Of him to whom ye sent us, Pellam, 

let thee lie. once 

Rise, my true knight. As children A Christless foe of thine as ever 

learn, be thou dash'd 

Wiser for falling! walk with me, Horse against horse; but seeing that 

and move thy realm 



Thereafter, when Sir Balin enter'd 
hall. 

The Lost one Found was greeted as 
in Heaven 

With joy that blazed itself in wood- 
land wealth 

Of leaf, and gayest garlandage of 
flowers. 

Along the walls and down the 
board ; they sat, 

And cup clash'd cup; they drank and 
someone sang. 

Sweet-voiced, a song of welcome, 
whereupon 

Their common shout in chorus, 
mounting, made 

Those banners of twelve battles over- 
head 

Stir, as they stirr'd of old, when 
Arthur's host 

Proclaim'd him Victor, and the day 
was won. 

Then Balan added to their Order 

lived 
A wealthier life than heretofore with 

these 
And Balin, till their embassage re- 

turn'd. 

" Sir King," they brought report, 
" we hardly found, 



258 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Hath prosper'd in the name of 

Christ, the King 
Took, as in rival heat, to holy 

things; 
And finds himself descended from 

the Saint 
Arimathaean Joseph ; hiin who first 
Brought the great faith to Britain 

over seas ; 
He boasts his life as purer than thine 

own; 
Eats scarce enow to keep his pulse 

abeat ; 
Hath push'd aside his faithful wife, 

nor lets 
Or dame or damsel enter at his 

gates 
Lest he should be polluted. This 

gray King 
Show'd us a shrine wherein were 

wonders — yea — 
Rich arks with priceless bones of 

martyrdom. 
Thorns of the crown and shivers of 

the cross, 
And therewithal (for thus he told 

us) brought 
By holy Joseph hither, that same 

spear 
Wherewith the Roman pierced the 

side of Christ. 
He much amazed us; after, when 

we sought 
The tribute, answer'd, ' I have quite 

foregone 
All matters of this world : Garlon, 

mine heir. 
Of him demand it,' which this Gar- 
lon gave 
With much ado, railing at thine and 

thee. 

But when we left, in those deep 

woods we found 
A knight of thine spear-stricken 

from behind. 
Dead, whom we buried ; more than 

one of us 



Cried out on Garlon, but a wood- 
man there 

Reported of some demon in the 
woods 

Was once a man, who driven by evil 
tongues 

From all his fellows, lived alone, 
and came 

To learn black magic, and to hate 
his kind 

With such a hate, that when he died, 
his soul 

Became a Fiend, which, as the man 
in life 

Was wounded by blind tongues he 
saw not whence, 

Strikes from behind. This wood- 
man show'd the cave 

From which he sallies, and wherein 
he dwelt. 

We saw the hoof-print of a horse, no 
more." 



Then Arthur, " Let who goes be- 
fore me, see 
He do not fall behind me: foully 

slain 
And villainously! who will hunt for 

me 
This demon of the woods?" Said 

Balan, "I!" 
So claiin'd the quest and rode away, 

but first. 
Embracing Balin, " Good, my 

brother, hear! 
Let not thy moods prevail, when I 

am gone 
Who used to lay them! hold them 

outer fiends, 
Who leap at thee to tear thee; shake 

them aside. 
Dreams ruling when wit sleeps! yea, 

but to dream 
That any of these would wrong thee, 

wrongs th3'self. 
Witness their flowery welcome. 

Bound are they 



BALIN AND BALAN 259 

To speak no evil. Truly safe for Hath hardly scaled with help a hun- 

fears, dred feet 

My fears for thee, so rich a fellow- Up from the base: so Balin marvel- 
ship ing oft 

Would make me wholly blest: thou How far beyond him Lancelot 

one of them, seem'd to move, 

Be one indeed : consider them, and Groan'd, and at times would mutter, 

all " These be gifts. 

Their bearing in their common bond Born with the blood, not learnable, 

of love, divine. 

No more of hatred than in Heaven Beyond my reach. Well had I 

itself, foughten — well — 

No more of jealousy than in Para- In those fierce w ars, struck hard — 

dise." and had I crown'd 

With my slain self the heaps of 
So Balan warn'd, and went; Balin whom I slew — 

remain'd: So — better! — But this worship of 
Who — for but three brief moons the Queen, 

had glanced away That honor, too, wherein she holds 
From being knighted till he smote him — this, 

the thrall. This was the sunshine that hath 
And faded from the presence into given the man 

years A growth, a name that branches o'er 
Of exile — now would strictlier set the rest, 

himself And strength against all odds, and 
To learn what Arthur meant by what the King 

courtesy. So prizes — overprizes — gentleness. 

Manhood, and knighthood ; where- Her likewise would I worship an I 

fore hover'd round might. 

Lancelot, but when he mark'd his I never can be close with her, as 

high sweet smile he 

In passing, and a transitory word That brought her hither. Shall I 
Make knight or churl or child or pray the King 

damsel seem To let me bear some token of his 
From being smiled at happier in Queen 

themselves — Whereon to gaze, remembering her 
Sigh'd, as a boy lame-born beneath a — forget 

height, My heats and violences? live afresh? 

That glooms his valley, sighs to see What, if the Queen disdain'd to 

the peak grant it! nay, 

Sun-flush'd, or touch at night the Being so stately-gentle, would she 

northern star; make 

For one from out his village lately My darkness blackness? and with 

climb'd how sweet grace 

And brought report of azure lands She greeted my return! Bold will 

and fair, I be — 

Far seen to left and right; and he Some goodly cognizance of Guine- 

himself vere. 



26o 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



In lieu of this rough beast upon my 

shield, 
Langued gules, and tooth'd with 

grinning savagery." 

And Arthur, when Sir Balin 

sought him, said : 
''What wilt thou bear?" Balin 

was bold, and ask'd 
To bear her own crown-royal upon 

shield. 
Whereat she smiled and turn'd her 

to the King, 
Who answer'd, " Thou shalt put the 

crown to use. 
The crown is but the shadow of the 

King, 
And this a shadow's shadow, let him 

have it, 
So this will help him of his vio- 
lences ! " 
"No shadow," said Sir Balin, "O 

my Queen, 
But light to me! no shadow, O my 

King 
But golden earnest of a gentler 

life!" 

So Balin bare the crown, and all 

the knights 
Approved him, and the Queen, and 

all the world 
Made music, and he felt his being 

move 
In music with his Order, and the 

King. 

The nightingale, full-toned in mid- 
dle May, 

Hath ever and anon a note so thin 

It seems another voice in other 
groves ; 

Thus, after some quick burst of sud- 
den wrath, 

The music in him seem'd to change, 
and grow 

Faint and far-ofF. 



And once he saw the thrall 

His passion half had gauntleted to 
death, 

That causer of his banishment and 
shame. 

Smile at him, as he deem'd, presump- 
tuously: 

His arm half rose to strike again, 
but fell: 

The memory of that cognizance on 
shield 

Weighted it down, but in himself he 
moan'd : 

" Too high this mount of Camelot 
for me: 

These high-set courtesies are not for 
me. 

Shall I not rather prove the worse 
for these? 

Fierier and stormier from restrain- 
ing, break 

Into some madness ev'n before the 
Queen? " 

Thus, as a hearth lit in a moun- 
tain home, 

And glancing on the window, when 
the gloom 

Of twilight deepens round it, seems 
a flame 

That rages in the woodland far be- 
low, 

So when his moods were darken'd, 
court and King 

And all the kindly warmth of 
Arthur's hall 

Shadow'd an angrj' distance: yet he 
strove 

To learn the graces of their Table, 
fought 

Hard with himself, and seem'd at 
length in peace. 

Then chanced, one morning, that 
Sir Balin sat 
Close-bower'd in that garden nigh 
the hall. 



BALIN AND BALAN 



261 



A walk of roses ran from door to For see, how perfect-pure! As 

door; light a flush 

A walk of lilies crost it to the As hardly tints the blossom of the 

bower : quince 

And down that range of roses the Would mar their charm of stainless 

great Queen maidenhood." 
Came with slow steps, the morning 



on her face; 
And all in shadow from the counter 

door 
Sir Lancelot as to meet her, then at 

once, 
As if he saw not, glanced aside, and 

paced 



" Sweeter to me," she said, " this 
garden rose 
Deep-hued and many-folded ! sweeter 

still 
The wild-wood hyacinth and the 
bloom of May. 
paueu ,, r 1-1- J Prince, we have ridd'n before among 

The long white walk of lilies toward ^j^^ flowers 



the bower. 
Follow'd the Queen ; Sir Balln 

her " Prince, 
Art thou so little loyal to thy Queen, 



, , In those fair days — not all as cool 
heard ^1 

as these, 

Tho' season-earlier. Art thou sad ? 

or sick? 



As pass without good morrow to thy q^^ ^^^^^ ^. ^.jj^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^.^ 

^ ^^''''"q- t 1 . vk U- own leech - 

To whom Sir Lancelot with his eyes ^.^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ ,^ ^^ 

on earth, me^" 

" Fain would I still be loyal to the 
Queen." 



*' Yea so," she said, " but so to pass 
me by — 

So loyal scarce is loyal to thyself. 

Whom all men rate the king of cour- 
tesy. 

Let be: ye stand, fair lord, as in a 
dream." 



Then Lancelot lifted his large 

eyes; they dwelt 
Deep-tranced on hers, and could not 

fall : her hue 
Changed at his gaze: so turning side 

by side 
They past, and Balin started from 

his bower. 



Then Lancelot with his hand 
among the flowers 



"Queen? subject? but I see not 
what I see. 



"Yea — for a dream. Last night Damsel and lover? hear not what I 

methought I saw hear. 

That maiden Saint who stands with My father hath begotten me in his 

lily in hand wrath. 

In yonder shrine. All round her I suffer from the things before me, 

prest the dark, know. 

And all the light upon her silver Learn nothing; am not worthy to be 

face knight; 

Flow'd from the spiritual lily that A churl, a clown!" and in him 

she held. gloom on gloom 

Lo! these her emblems drew mine Deepen'd: he sharply caught his 

eyes — away : lance and shield, 



262 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Nor stay'd to crave permission of the Now with droopt brow down the 

king, long glades he rode; 

But, mad for strange adventure, So mark'd not on his right a cavern- 

dash'd away. chasm 

Yawn over darkness, where, nor far 
within, 

He took the selfsame track as The whole day died, but dying, 

Balan, saw gleam'd on rocks 

The fountain where they sat to- Roof-pendent, sharp; and others 

gether, sigh'd, from the floor, 

" Was I not better there with him? " Tusklike, arising, made that mouth 

and rode of night 

The skyless woods, but under open Whereout the Demon issued up 

blue from Hell. 

Came on the hoarhead woodman at He mark'd not this, but blind and 

a bough deaf to all 

Wearily hewing. " Churl, thine Save that chain'd rage, which ever 

ax!" he cried, yelpt within. 

Descended, and disjointed it at a Past eastward from the falling sun. 

blow: At once 

To whom the woodman utter'd won- He felt the hollow-beaten mosses 

deringly, thud 

" Lord, thou couldst lay the Devil of And tremble, and then the shadow 

these woods of a spear. 

If arm of flesh could lay him." Shot from behind him, ran along the 

Balin cried, ground. 

" Him, or the viler devil who plays Sideways he started from the path, 

his part, and saw. 

To lay that devil would lay the With pointed lance as if to pierce, a 

Devil in me." shape, 

" Nay," said the churl, " our devil A light of armor by him flash, and 

is a truth, pass 

I saw the flash of him but yester- And vanish in the woods; and fol- 

even. low'd this, 
And some do say that our Sir Gar- But all so blind in rage that Un- 
ion, too awares 
Hath learn'd black magic, and to He burst his lance against a forest 

ride unseen. bough. 

Look to the cave." But Balin an- Dishorsed himself, and rose again, 

swer'd him, and fled 

*' Old fabler, these be fancies of the Far, till the castle of a King, the 

churl, hall 

Look to thy woodcraft," and so leav- Of Pellam, lichen-bearded, grayly 

ing him, draped 

Now with slack rein and careless of With streaming grass, appear'd, 

himself, low-built but strong; 

Now with dug spur and raving at The ruinous donjon as a knoll of 

himself, moss. 



BALIN AND BALAN 



263 



The battlement overtopt with ivy- So simple! hast thou eyes, or if, are 

tods, these 

A home of bats, in every tower an So far besotted that they fail to see 



owl. 



Then spake the men of Pellam 
crying, " Lord, 
Why wear ye this cro\vn-ro3^al upon 

shield? " 
Said Balin, " For the fairest and the 

best 
Of ladies living gave me this to 

bear." 
So stall'd his horse, and strode 

across the court. 
But found the greetings both of 

knight and King 
Faint in the low dark hall of ban- 
quet: leaves 
Laid their green faces flat against 

the panes. 
Sprays grated, and the canker'd 

boughs without 
"Whined in the wood ; for all was 

hush'd within, 
Till when at feast Sir Garlon like- 
wise ask'd, 
"Why wear ye that crown-royal?" 

Balin said, 
*' The Queen we worship, Lancelot, 

I, and all, 
As fairest, best and purest, granted 

me 
To bear it!" Such a sound — for 

Arthur's knights 
Were hated strangers in the hall — 

as makes 
The white swan-mother, sitting, 

when she hears 
A strange knee rustle thro' her secret 

reeds. 
Made Garlon, hissing; then he 

sourly smiled. 
"Fairest I grant her: I have seen; 

but best, 
Best, purest? tJiou from Arthur's 
hall, and yet 



This fair wife-worship cloaks a 

secret shame ? 
Truly, ye men of Arthur be but 

babes." 



A goblet on the board by Balin, 
boss'd 

With holy Joseph's legend, on his 
right 

Stood, all of massiest bronze: one 
side had sea 

And ship and sail and angels blow- 
ing on it: 

And one was rough with wattling, 
and the walls 

Of that low church he built at Glas- 
tonbury. 

This Balin graspt, but while in act 
to hurl. 

Thro' memory of that token on the 
shield 

Relax'd his hold : " I will be gen- 
tle," he thought 

" And passing gentle " caught his 
hand away. 

Then fiercely to Sir Garlon, " Eyes 
have I 

That saw to-day the shadow of a 
spear. 

Shot from behind me, run along the 
ground ; 

Eyes, too, that long have watch'd 
how Lancelot draws 

From homage to the best and purest, 
might. 

Name, manhood, and a grace, but 
scantly thine. 

Who, sitting in thine own hall, canst 
endure 

To mouth so huge a foulness — to 
thy guest, 

Me, me of Arthur's Table. Felon 

talk! 
Let be! no more! " 



264 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 

But not the less by 



night 
The scorn of Garlon, poisoning all 

his rest, 
Stung him in dreams. At length, 

and dim thro' leaves 
Blinkt the white morn, sprays grated, 

and old boughs 
Whined in the wood. He rose, de- 
scended, met 
The scorner in the castle court, and 

fain, 
For hate and loathing, would have 

past him by; 
But when Sir Garlon utter'd mock- 

ing-wise ; 
" What, wear ye still that same 

crown-scandalous? " 
His countenance blacken'd, and his 

forehead veins 
Bloated, and branch'd ; and tearing 

out of sheath 
The brand, Sir Balin with a fiery, 

"Ha! 
So thou be shadow, here I make 

thee ghost," 
Hard upon helm smote him, and the 

blade flew 
Splintering in six, and clinkt upon 

the stones. 
Then Garlon, reeling slow-ly back- 
ward, fell, 
And Balin by the banneret of his 

helm 
Dragg'd him, and struck, but from 

the castle a cry 
Sounded across the court, and — 

men-at-arms, 
A score with pointed lances, making 

at him — 
He dash'd the pummel at the fore- 
most face. 
Beneath a low door dipt, and made 

his feet 
Wings thro' a glimmering gallery, 

till he mark'd 
The portal of King Pellam's chapel 

wide 



And inward to the wall; he stept 

behind ; 
Thence in a moment heard them pass 

like wolves 
Howling; but while he stared about 

the shrine. 
In which he scarce could spy the 

Christ for Saints, 
Beheld before a golden altar lie 
The longest lance his eyes had ever 

seen. 
Point-painted red ; and seizing there- 
upon 
Push'd thro' an open casement down, 

lean'd on it, 
Leapt in a semicircle, and lit on 

earth ; 
Then hand at ear, and barkening 

from what side 
The blindfold rummage buried in 

the walls 
Might echo, ran the counter path, 

and found 
His charger, mounted on him and 

away. 
An arrow w'hizz'd to the right, one 

to the left. 
One overhead ; and Pellam's feeble 

cry, 
" Stay, stay him ! he defileth heavenly 

things 
With earthly uses " — made him 

quickly dive 
Beneath the boughs, and race thro' 

many a mile 
Of dense and open, till his goodly 

horse. 
Arising wearily at a fallen oak, 
Stumbled headlong, and cast him 

face to ground. 



Half-wroth he had not ended, but 

all glad, 
Knightlike, to find his charger 5'et 

unlamed, 
Sir Balin drew the shield from off 

his neck, 



BALIN AND BALAN 265 

Stared at the priceless cognizance, The fire of Heaven is Lord of all 

and thought, things good, 

" I have shamed thee so that now And starve not thou this fire within 

thou shamest me, thy blood. 

Thee will I bear no more," high on a But follow Vivien thro' the fiery 

branch flood ! 

Hung it, and turn'd aside into the The fire of Heaven is not the flame 

woods, of Hell ! " 
And there in gloom cast himself all 

along. Then turning to her Squire, " This 

Moaning, " My violences, my vio- fire of Heaven, 

lences! " This old sun-worship, boy, will rise 

again. 

But now the wholesome music of And beat the cross to earth, and 

the wood break the King 

Was dumb'd by one from out the And all his Table." 

hall of Mark, 

A damsel-errant, warbling, as she Then they reach'd a glade, 

rode Where under one long lane of cloud- 

The woodland alleys, Vivien, with less air 

her Squire. Before another wood, the royal 

crown 
" The fire of Heaven has kill'd the Sparkled, and swaying upon a rest- 
barren cold, less elm 
And kindled all the plain and all the Drew the vague glance of Vivien, 

wold. and her Squire; 

The new leaf ever pushes off the old. Amazed were these ; " Lo, there," 

The fire of Heaven is not the flame she cried — " a crown — 

of Hell. Borne by some high lord-prince of 

Arthur's hall. 

Old priest, who mumble worship And there a horse! the rider? where 

in your quire — is he? 

Old monk and nun, ye scorn the See, yonder lies one dead within the 

world's desire, wood. 

Yet in your frosty cells ye feel the Not dead ; he stirs ! — but sleeping. 

fire! I will speak. 

The fire of Heaven is not the flame Hail, royal knight, we break on thy 

of Hell. sweet rest. 

Not, doubtless, all unearn'd by noble 

The fire of Heaven is on the dusty deeds. 

ways. But bounden art thou, if from 

The wayside blossoms open to the Arthur's hall, 

blaze. To help the weak. Behold, I fly 

The whole wood-world is one full from shame, 

peal of praise. A lustful King, who sought to win 

The fire of Heaven is not the flame my love 

of Hell. Thro' evil ways: the knight, with 

whom I rode. 



266 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Hath suffer'd misadventure, and my I knew thee wrong'd. I brake upon 

squire thy rest, 

Hath in him small defense; but thou, And now full loth am I to break 

Sir Prince, thy dream. 

Wilt surely guide me to the warrior But thou art man, and canst abide a 

King, truth, 

Arthur the blameless, pure as any Tho' bitter. Hither, boy — and 

maid, mark me well. 

To get me shelter for my maiden- Dost thou remember at Caerleon 

hood. once — 

I charge thee by that crown upon A year ago — nay, then I love thee 

thy shield, not — 

And by the great Queen's name, Aye, thou rememberest well — one 

arise and hence." summer dawn — 

By the great tower — Caerleon upon 

And Balin rose, " Thither no Usk — 

more ! nor Prince Nay, truly we were hidden : this 

Nor knight am I, but one that hath fair lord, 

defamed The flower of all their vestal knight- 

The cognizance she gave me: here hood, knelt 

I dwell In amorous homage — knelt — what 

Savage among the savage woods, else ? — O aye, 

here die — Knelt, and drew down from out his 

Die: let the wolves' black maws en- night-black hair 

sepulcher And mumbled that white hand 

Their brother beast, whose anger whose ring'd caress 

was his lord. Had wander'd from her own King's 

O me, that such a name as Guine- golden head, 

vere's. And lost itself in darkness, till she 

Which our high Lancelot hath so cried — 

lifted up, I thought the great tower would 

And been thereby uplifted, should crash down on both — 

thro' me, ' Rise, my sweet King, and kiss me 

My violence, and my villainy, come on the lips, 

to shame." Thou art my King.' This lad, 

whose lightest word 
Thereat she suddenly laugh'd and Is mere white truth in simple naked- 
shrill, anon ness, 
Sigh'd all as suddenly. Said Balin Saw them embrace: he reddens, can- 
to her, not speak, 
"Is this thy courtesy — to mock me, So bashful, he! but all the maiden 

ha? Saints, 

Hence, for I will not with thee." The deathless mother-maidenhood of 

Again she sigh'd, Heaven 

** Pardon, sweet lord ! we maidens Cry out upon her. Up then, ride 

often laugh with me! 

When sick at heart, when rather we Talk not of shame! thou canst not, 

should weep. an thou would'st. 



BALIN AND BALAN 267 

Do these more shame than these have (His quest was unaccomplish'd) 

done themselves." heard and thought, 

" The scream of that Wood-devil I 

She lied with ease; but horror- came to quell!" 

stricken he, Then nearing, "Lo! he hath slain 

Remembering that dark bower at some brother-knight, 

Camelot, And tramples on the goodly shield to 

Breathed in a dismal whisper, " It is show 

truth." His loathing of our Order and the 

Queen. 

Sunnily she smiled, " And even in My quest, meseems, is here. Or 

this lone wood, devil or man 

Sweet lord, ye do right well to Guard thou thine head." Sir Balin 

whisper this. spake not word. 

Fools prate, and perish traitors. But snatch'd a sudden buckler from 

Woods have tongues, the Squire, 

As walls have ears: but thou shalt go And vaulted on his horse, and so they 

with me, crash'd 

And we will speak at first exceeding In onset, and King Pellam's holy 

low. spear. 

Meet is it the good King be not de- Reputed to be red with sinless blood, 

ceived. Redden'd at once with sinful, for the 

See now, I set thee high on vantage point 

ground, Across the maiden shield of Balan 

From whence to watch the time, and prick'd 

eagle-like The hauberk to the flesh ; and Balin's 

Stoop at thy will on Lancelot and horse 

the Queen." Was wearied to the death, and, when 

they clash'd. 

She ceased ; his evil spirit upon Rolling back upon Balin, crush'd the 

him leapt, man 

He ground his teeth together, sprang Inward, and either fell, and swoon'd 

with a yell, away. 
Tore from the branch, and cast on 

earth, the shield, Then to her Squire mutter'd the 

Drove his mail'd heel athwart the damsel, "Fools! 

royal crown. This fellow hath wrought some foul- 

Stampt all Into defacement, hurl'd it ness with his Queen : 

from him Else never had he borne her crown, 

Among the forest weeds, and cursed nor raved 

the tale. And thus foam'd over at a rival 

The told-of, and the teller. name : 

But thou, Sir Chick, that scarce hast 

That weird yell, broken shell, 

Unearthlier than all shriek of bird Art yet half-yolk, not even come to 

or beast, down — 

Thrill'd thro' the woods; and Balan Who never sawest Caerleon upon 

lurking there Usk — 



268 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



And yet hast often pleaded for my 

love — 
See what I see, be thou where I have 

been, 
Or else Sir Chick — dismount and 

loose their casques 
I fain would know what manner of 

men they be." 
And when the Squire had loosed 

them, "Goodly! — look! 
They might have cropt the myriad 

flower of May, 
And butt each other here, like brain- 
less bulls, 
Dead for one heifer ! " 

Then the gentle Squire, 
" I hold them happy, so they died for 

love : 
And, Vivien, tho' ye beat me like 

your dog, 
I, too, could die, as now I live, for 

thee." 

" Live on, Sir Boy," she cried. " I 
better prize 
The living dog than the dead lion: 



away 



I cannot brook to gaze upon the 

dead." 
Then leapt her palfrey o'er the fallen 

oak. 
And bounding forward, " Leave them 

to the wolves." 

But when their foreheads felt the 
cooling air, 

Balin first woke, and seeing that true 
face. 

Familiar up from cradle-time, so 
wan, 

Crawl'd slowly with low moans to 
where he lay, 

And on his dying brother cast him- 
self 

Dying; and he lifted faint eyes; he 
felt 



One near him; all at once they 
found the world. 

Staring wild-wide; then with a child- 
like wail. 

And drawing down the dim disas- 
trous brow 

That o'er him hung, he kiss'd it> 
moan'd and spake: 

" O Balin, Balin, I that fain had 

died 
To save thy life, have brought thee 

to thy death. 
Why had ye not the shield I knew? 

and why 
Trampled ye thus on that which 

bare the Crown ? " 

Then Balin told him brokenly, 
and in gasps, 
All that had chanced, and Balan 
moan'd again. 

" Brother, I dwelt a day in Pel- 
lam's hall : 

This Garlon mock'd me, but I 
heeded not. 

And one said, ' Eat in peace ! a liar 
is he. 

And hates thee for the tribute! ' this 
good knight 

Told me, that twice a wanton dam- 
sel came, 

And sought for Garlon at the castle- 
gates. 

Whom Pellam drove away with holy 
heat. 

I well believe this damsel, and the 
one 

Who stood beside thee even now, 
the same. 

' She dwells among the woods,' he 
said, ' and meets 

And dallies with him in the Mouth 
of Hell.' 

Foul are their lives; foul are their 
lips; they lied. 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 



269 



Pure as our own true Mother is our The slights of Arthur and his Table, 

Queen." Mark 

The Cornish King, had heard a 

" O brother," answer'd Balin, wandering voice, 

"woe is me! A minstrel of Caerleon by strong 

My madness all thy life has been thy storm 

doom. Blown into shelter at Tintagil, say 

Thy curse, and darken'd all thy day; That out of naked knightlike purity 



and now 
The night has come. I scarce can 

see thee now. 
Good-night! for we shall never bid 

again 
Good-morrow — Dark my doom was 

here, and dark 
It will be there. I see thee now no 

more. 
I would not mine again should 

darken thine. 
Good-night, true brother." 



Sir Lancelot worshipt no unmarried 
girl 

But the great Queen herself, fought 
in her name, 

Sware by her — vows like theirs, that 
high in heaven 

Love most, but neither marry, nor 
are given 

In marriage, angels of our Lord's re- 
port. 



He ceased, and then — for Vivien 
sweetly said 

Balan answer'd low (She sat beside the banquet nearest 
"Good-night, true brother here! Mark), 

good-morrow there! "And is the fair example follow'd, 

We two were born together, and we Sir, 

die In Arthur's household?" — answer'd 

Together by one doom : " and while innocently : 

he spoke 
Closed his death-drowsing eyes, and " Aye, by some few — aye, truly — 

slept the sleep youths that hold 

With Balin, either lock'd in cither's It more beseems the perfect virgin 
arms. knight 

To worship woman as true wife be- 
yond 
MERLIN AND VIVIEN All hopes of gaining, than as maiden 

girl. 
A STORM was coming, but the winds They place their pride in Lancelot 

were still, and the Queen. 

And in the wild woods of Broce- So passionate for an utter purity 

liande. Beyond the limit of their bond, are 

Before an oak, so hollow, huge and these, 



old 

It look'd a tower of ivied mason- 
work. 

At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay. 

For he that always bare in bitter 
grudge 



For Arthur bound them not to single- 
ness. 

Brave hearts and clean! and yet — 
God guide them — }'oung." 

Then Mark was half in heart to 
hurl his cup 



270 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Straight at the speaker, but forebore: Thy blessing, stainless King! I 

he rose bring thee back. 

To leave the hall, and, Vivien follow- When I have ferreted out their bur- 

ing him, rowings, 

Turn'd to her : " Here are snakes The hearts of all this Order in mine 

within the grass ; hand — 

And you methinks, O Vivien, save ye Aye — so that fate and craft and folly 

fear close, 

The monkish manhood, and the mask Perchance, one curl of Arthur's 

of pure golden beard. 

Worn by this court, can stir them till To me this narrow grizzled fork of 

they sting." thine 

Is cleaner-fashion'd — Well, I loved 
thee first. 

And Vivien answer'd, smiling That warps the wit." 

scornfully, 

" Why fear ? because that foster'd at Loud laugh'd the graceless Mark. 

thy court But Vivien, into Camelot stealing, 

I savor of thy — virtues? fear them? lodged 

no. Low in the city, and on a festal day 

As Love, if Love be perfect, casts out When Guinevere was crossing the 

fear, great hall 

So Hate, if Hate be perfect, casts out Cast herself down, knelt to the Queen, 

fear. and wail'd. 
My father died in battle against the 

King, " Why kneel ye there? WTiat evil 

My mother on his corpse in open have ye wrought? 

field; Rise!" and the damsel bidden rise 

She bore me there, for born from arose 

death w^as I And stood with folded hands and 

Among the dead and sown upon the downward eyes 

wind — Of glancing corner, and all meekly 

And then on thee! and shown the said, 

truth betimes, " None wrought, but suffer'd much, 

That old true filth, and bottom of an orphan maid ! 

the well, My father died in battle for thy 

Where Truth is hidden. Gracious King, 

lessons thine My mother on his corpse — in open 

And maxims of the mud ! ' This field, 

Arthur pure! The sad sea-sounding wastes of Lyon- 

Great Nature thro' the flesh herself nesse — 

hath made Poor wretch — no friend ! — and now 

Gives him the lie ! There is no be- by Mark the King 

ing pure. For that small charm of feature 

My cherub ; saith not Holy Writ the mine, pursued — 

same?' — If any such be mine — I fly to thee. 

If I were Arthur, I would have thy Save, save me thou — Woman of 

blood. women — thine 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 



271 



The wreath of beauty, thine the " Is that the Lancelot ? goodly — 

crown of power, aye, but gaunt: 

Be thine the balm of pity, O Heaven's Courteous — amends for gauntness — 

own white takes her hand — 

Earth-angel, stainless bride of stain- That glance of theirs, but for the 

less King — street, had been 

Help, for he follows ! take me to thy- A clinging kiss — how hand lingers 

self! in hand! 

O yield me shelter for mine innocency Let go at last ! — they ride away — 

Among thy maidens!" to hawk 

For waterfowl. Royaller game is 
mine. 

Here her slow sweet eyes For such a supersensual sensual bond 

Fear-tremulous, but humbly hopeful. As that gray cricket chirpt of at our 

rose hearth — 

Fixt on her hearer's, while the Queen Touch flax with flame — a glance 

who stood will serve — the liars ! 

All glittering like May sunshine on Ah, little rat that borest in the dyke 

May leaves Thy hole by night to let the boundless 

In green and gold, and plumed with deep 



green replied, 

" Peace, child ! of overpraise and over- 
blame 

We choose the last. Our noble 
Arthur, him 

Ye scarce can overpraise, will hear 
and know. 

Nay — we believe all evil of thy 
Mark — 

Well, we shall test thee farther; but 
this hour 

We ride a-hawking with Sir Lance- 
lot. 

He hath given us a fair falcon which 
he train'd; 

We go to prove it. Bide ye here the 
while." 



Down upon far-off cities while they 

dance — 
Or dream — of thee they dream'd 

not — nor of me 
These — aye, but each of either : ride, 

and dream 
The mortal dream that never yet was 

mine — 
Ride, ride and dream until ye wake — 

to me! 
Then, narrow court and lubber King, 

farewell ! 
For Lancelot will be gracious to the 

rat. 
And our wise Queen, if knowing that 

I know. 
Will hate, loathe, fear — but honor 

me the more." 



She past; and Vivien murmur'd 

after "Go! 
I bide the while." Then thro' the 

portal-arch 
Peering askance, and muttering bro- 

kenwise. 
As one that labors with an evil dream, 



Yet while they rode together down 

the plain. 
Their talk was all of training, terms 

of art. 
Diet and seeling, jesses, leash and 

lure. 



Beheld the Queen and Lancelot get to " She is too noble," he said, " to check 
horse. at pies, 



272 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Nor will she rake: there Is no base- She hated all the knights, and 

ness in her." heard in thought 

Here when the Queen demanded as Their lavish comment when her name 

by chance, was named. 

*' Know ye the stranger woman ? " For once, when Arthur walking all 

" Let her be," alone. 

Said Lancelot and unhooded casting Vext at a rumor issued from her- 

off self 

The goodly falcon free; she tower'd ; Of some corruption crept among his 

her bells, knights, 

Tone under tone, shrill'd, and they Had met her, Vivien, being greeted 

lifted up fair. 

Their eager faces, wondering at the Would fain have wrought upon his 

strength, cloudy mood 

Boldness and royal knighthood of With reverent eyes mock-loyal, 

the bird shaken voice, 

Who pounced her quarry and slew it. And flutter'd adoration, and at last 

Many a time With dark sweet hints of some who 

As once — of old — among the prized him more 

flowers — they rode. Than who should prize him most ; at 

w^hich the King 

But Vivien half-forgotten of the Had gazed upon her blankly and 

Queen gone by: 

Among her damsels broidering sat. But one had watch'd, and had not 

heard, watch'd held his peace: 
And whisper'd: thro' the peaceful It made the laughter of an after- 
court she crept noon 
And whisper'd : then as Arthur in the That Vivien should attempt the 

highest blameless King. 

Leaven'd the world, so Vivien in the And after that, she set herself to gain 

lowest, Him, the most famous man of all 

Arriving at a time of golden rest, those times. 

And sowing one ill hint from ear to Merlin, who knew the range of all 

ear, their arts. 

While all the heathen lay at Arthur's Had built the King his havens, ships, 

feet, <ind halls. 

And no quest came, but all was joust Was also Bard, and knew the starry 

and play, heavens; 

Leaven'd his hall. They heard and The people call'd him Wizard ; whom 

let her be. at first 

She play'd about with slight and 

Thereafter as an enemy that has sprightly talk, 

left And vivid smiles, and faintly-venom'd 

Death in the living waters, and with- points 

drawn. Of slander, glancing here and grazing 

The wily Vivien stole from Arthur's there ; 

court. And yielding to his kindlier moods, 

the Seer 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 273 

Would watch her at her petulance, And Vivien follow'd, but he mark'd 

and play, her not. 

Ev'n when they seem'd unloveable. She took the helm and he the sail ; 

and laugh the boat 

As those that watch a kitten ; thus he Drave with a sudden wind across the 

grew deeps, 

Tolerant of what he half disdain'd, And touching Breton sands, they dis- 

and she, embark'd. 

Perceiving that she was but half dis- And then she follow'd Merlin all the 

dain'd, way. 

Began to break her sports with graver Ev'n to the wild woods of Broce- 

fits, liande. 

Turn red or pale, would often when For Merlin once had told her of a 

they met charm. 

Sigh fully, or all-silent gaze upon him The which if any wrought on anyone 

With such a fixt devotion, that the With woven paces and with waving 

old man, arms, 

Tho' doubtful, felt the flattery, and The man so wrought on ever seem'd 

at times to lie 

Would flatter his own wish in age Closed in the four walls of a hollow 

for love, tower, 

And half believe her true: for thus at From which was no escape for ever- 

times more ; 

He waver'd; but that other clung to And none could find that man for 

him, evermore, 

Fixt in her will, and so the seasons Nor could he see but him who 

went. wrought the charm 

Coming and going, and he lay as dead 

Then fell on Merlin a great melan- ^"^ 1°^^ ^^ ^'^^ ^"'^ "^^ ^"^ "^"^^ ^"^ 
cholv • fame. 

He walk'd with dreams and dark- ^"^ ^'^^'^^ ^^^^ ^^^g^^ ^° ^^'"'^ the 

ness, and he found tt ^ ^\^ t- i r i 

A doom that ever poised itself to Upon the great Enchanter of the 

fall ^•""'^' 

An ever-moaning battle in the mist, ^' ^^""/'"^ ^^^^ ^^' S^^''^ ^^^^^^ ^^ 

World-war of dying flesh against the . ^^f , . , , 

j-f Accord mg to his greatness whom she 

Death in all life and lying in all love, quench'd. 

The meanest having power upon the r^, , , ,, , , , 

1 • 1 j^ 1 here lay she all her length and 

And the high purpose broken by the ,. ..K'^^'"* *"^ ^^^*' , . , 

As if in deepest reverence and in love, 

worm. . . r I 1 II 1 • 

A twist or gold was round her hair; a 

robe 

So leaving Arthur's court he gain'd Of samite without price, that more 

the beach; exprest 

There found a little boat, and stept Than hid her, clung about her lissome 

into it; limbs. 



274 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

In color like the satin-shining palm " I saw the little elf-god eyeless once 

On sallows in the windy gleams of In Arthur's arras hall at Camelot: 

March: But neither eyes nor tongue — -O 

And while she kiss'd them, crying, stupid child ! 

" Trample me, Yet you are wise who say it ; let me 

Dear feet, that I have follow'd thro' think 

the world. Silence is wisdom: I am silent then, 

And I will pay you worship; tread me And ask no kiss; " then adding all at 

down once, 

And I will kiss you for it;" he was "And lo, I clothe myself with wis- 

mute: dom," drew 

So dark a forethought roll'd about The vast and shaggy mantle of his 

his brain, beard 

As on a dull day in an Ocean cave Across her neck and bosom to her 

The blind wave feeling round his knee, 

long sea-hall And call'd herself a gilded summer fly 

In silence: wherefore, when she lifted Caught in a great old tyrant spider's 

up web, 

A face of sad appeal, and spake and Who meant to eat her up in that wild 

said, wood 

"O Merlin, do ye love me?" and Without one word. So Vivien call'd 

again, herself, 

"O Merlin, do ye love me?" and But rather seem'd a lovely baleful 

once more, star 

*' Great Master, do ye love me ? " he Veil'd in gray vapor ; till he sadly 

was mute. smiled : 

And lissome Vivien, holding by his " To what request for what strange 

heel, boon," he said, 

Writhed toward him, slided up his " Are these your pretty tricks and 

knee and sat, fooleries, 

Behind his ankle twined her hollow O Vivien, the preamble? yet my 

feet thanks, 

Together, curved an arm about his For these have broken up my melan- 

neck, choly." 
Clung like a snake; and letting her 

left hand And Vivien answer'd smiling sau- 

Droop from his mighty shoulder, as a cily, 

leaf, " What, O my Master, have ye found 

Made with her right a comb of pearl your voice? 

to part I bid the stranger welcome. Thanks 

The lists of such a beard as youth at last! 

gone out But yesterday you never open'd lip, 

Had left in ashes: then he spoke and Except indeed to drink: no cup had 

said, we: 

Not looking at her, " Who are wise In mine own lady palms I cull'd the 

in love spring 

Love most, say least," and Vivien an- That gather'd trickling dropwise 

swer'd quick, from the cleft, 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 275 

And made a pretty cup of both my And when I look'd, and saw you 

hands following still, 

And offer'd you it kneeling: then you My mind involved yourself the near- 

drank est thing 

And knew no more, nor gave me one In that mind-mist, for shall I tell you 

poor word ; truth ? 

O no more thanks than might a goat You seeni'd that wave about to break 

have given upon me 

With no more sign of reverence than And sweep me from my hold upon 

a beard. the world, 

And when we halted at that other My use and name and fame. Your 

well, pardon, child. 

And I was faint to swooning, and Your pretty sports have brighten'd all 

you lay again. 

Foot-gilt with all the blossom-dust of And ask your boon, for boon I owe 

those you thrice, 

Deep meadows we had traversed, did Once for wrong done you by confu- 

you know sion, next 

That Vivien bathed your feet before For thanks it seems till now neglected, 

her own ? last 

And yet no thanks: and all thro' this For these your dainty gambols: 

wild wood wherefore ask ; 

And all this morning when I fondled And take this boon so strange and 

you : not so strange." 

Boon, aye, there was a boon, one not 

so strange — 
How had I wrong'd you? surely ye And Vivien answer'd smiling 

are wise, mournfully: 

But such a silence is more wise than " O not so strange as my long asking 

kind." it, 

Not yet so strange as you yourself are 
And Merlin lock'd his hand in hers strange, 

and said : Nor half so strange as that dark mood 
** O did ye never lie upon the shore, of yours. 

And watch the curl'd white of the I ever fear'd ye were not wholly 

coming wave mine ; 

Glass'd in the slippery sand before it And see, yourself have own'd ye did 

breaks? me wrong. 

Ev'n such a wave, but not so pleasur- The people call you prophet: let it 

able, be : 

Dark in the glass of some presageful But not of those that can expound 

mood, themselves. 

Had I for three days seen, ready to Take Vivien for expounder; she will 

fall. call 

And then I rose and fled from That three-days-long presageful 

Arthur's court gloom of yours 

To break the mood. You follow'd No presage, but the same mistrustful 

me unask'd ; mood 



276 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

That makes you seem less noble than Ev'n in the jumbled rubbish of a 

yourself, dream, 

Whenever I have ask'd this very Have tript on such conjectural 

boon, treachery — 

Now ask'd again: for see you not. May this hard earth cleave to the 

dear love, Nadir hell 

That such a mood as that, which Down, down, and close again, and nip 

lately gloom'd me flat, 

Your fancy when ye saw me follow- If I be such a traitress. Yield my 

ing you, boon. 

Must make me fear still more you Till which I scarce can yield you all I 

are not mine, am ; 

Must make me yearn still more to And grant my re-reiterated wish, 

prove you mine, The great proof of your love: be- 

And make me wish still more to learn cause I think, 

this charm However wise, ye hardly know me 

Of woven paces and of waving hands, yet." 
As proof of trust. O Merlin, teach 

it me. And Merlin loosed his hand from 

The charm so taught will charm us hers and said, 

both to rest. " I never was less wise, however wise, 

For, grant me some slight power upon Too curious Vivien, tho' you talk of 

your fate, trust, 

I, feeling that you felt me worthy Than when I told you first of such a 

trust, charm. 

Should rest and let you rest, know- Yea, if ye talk of trust I tell you this, 

ing you mine. Too much I trusted when I told you 

And therefore be as great as ye are that, 

named. And stirr'd this vice in you which 

Not muffled round with selfish reti- ruin'd man 

cence. Thro' woman the first hour ; for 

How hard you look and how deny- howsoe'er 

ingly! In children a great curiousness be 

O, if you think this wickedness in well, 

me. Who have to learn themselves and all 

That I should prove it on you un- the world, 

awares. In you, that are no child, for still I 

That makes me passing wrathful ; find 

then our bond Your face is practised when I spell 

Had best be loosed forever: but the lines, 

think or not, I call it, — well, I will not call it 

By Heaven that hears I tell you the vice: 

clean truth. But since you name yourself the sum- 
As clean as blood of babes, as white mer fly, 

as milk: I well could wish a cobweb for the 

O Merlin, may this earth, if ever I, gnat, 

If these unwitty wandering wits of That settles, beaten back, and beaten 

mine, back 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 277 

Settles, till one could yield for weari- That rotting inward slowly molders 

ness: all. 
But since I will not yield to give you 

po^'^r ' It is not worth the keeping: let it 

Upon my life and use and name and go: 

f^m^, But shall it? answer, darling, an- 

Why will ye never ask some other swer no. 

boon ? And trust me not at all or all in all.' 
Yea, by God's rood, I trusted you too 

"^"*^"' O Master, do ye love my tender 

rhyme ? " 
And Vivien, like the tenderest- 

hearted maid And Merlin look'd and half be- 
That ever bided tryst at village stile, lieved her true 
Made answer, either eyelid wet with So tender was her voice, so fair her 

tears : face, 

*' Nay, Master, be not wrathful with So sweetly gleam'd her eyes behind 

your maid ; her tears 

Caress her: let her feel herself for- Like sunlight on the plain behind a 

given shower : 

Who feels no heart to ask another And yet he answer'd half indig- 

boon. nantly : 
I think ye hardly know the tender 

Of 'VuTt'me not at all or all in " Far other was the song that once 

all ' heard 

I heard* the great Sir Lancelot sing it ^y '^'' ^"S^ oak, sung nearly where 

once we sit: 

And it shall answer for me. Listen ^""^ ^f^ ^^ "^^f' ^^"^^ ^^^ «^ twelve 

to it. ^^ "^' 

To chase a creature that was current 

• In Love, if Love be Love, if Love j„ ^j^^g" ^jy ^.^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^.^^ 

b^ ^"^^' golden horns 

Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal j^ ^,^^ ^^e time when first the ques- 

P^^^^^^- tion rose 

Unfaith in aught is want of faith in j^^^^^ ^^e founding of a Table 

^^^' Round, 

That was to be, for love of God and 

' It is the little rift within the lute, men 

That by and by will make the music And noble deeds, the flower of all the 

mute, world. 

And ever widening slowly silence all. And each incited each to noble 

deeds. 

' The little rift within the lover's And while we waited, one, the 

lute j'oungest of us, 

Or little pitted speck in garner'd We could not keep him silent, out he 

fruit, flash'd. 



278 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And into such a song, such fire for Because I saw you sad, to comfort 

fame, you. 

Such trumpet-blowings in it, coming Lo, now, what hearts have men ! they 

down never mount 

To such a stern and iron-clashing As high as woman in her selfless 

close, mood. 

That when he stopt we long'd to And touching fame, howe'er ye 

hurl together, scorn my song, 

And should have done it ; but the Take one verse more — the lady 

beauteous beast speaks it — this : 
Scared by the noise upstarted at our 

feet, " ' My name, once mine, now 

And like a silver shadow slipt away thine, is closelier mine. 

Thro' the dim land; and all day For fame, could fame be mine, that 

long we rode fame were thine. 

Thro' the dim land against a rushing And shame, could shame be thine, 

wind, that shame were mine. 

That glorious roundel echoing in our So trust me not at all or all in all.' 

ears, 

And chased the flashes of his golden "Says she not well? and there is 

horns more — this rhyme 

Until they vanish'd by the fairy well Is like the fair pearl-necklace of the 

That laughs at iron — as our war- Queen, 

riors did — That burst in dancing, and the pearls 

Where children cast their pins and were spilt; 

nails, and cry, Some lost, some stolen, some as 

Laugh, little well ! ' but touch it relics kept. 

with a sword. But nevermore the same two sister 

It buzzes fiercely round the point, pearls 

and there Ran down the silken thread to kiss 

We lost him : such a noble song was each other 

that. On her white neck — so is It with 

But, Vivien, when you sang me that this rhyme: 

sweet rhyme. It lives dispersedly in many hands, 

I felt as tho' you knew this cursed And every minstrel sings it differ- 

charm, ently : 

Were proving it on me, and that I Yet is there one true line, the pearl 

lay of pearls: 

And felt them slowly ebbing, name Man dreams of Fame while woman 

and fame." wakes to love.' 

Yea! Love, tho' Love were of the 
grossest, carves 

And Vivien answer'd smiling A portion from the solid present, 

mournfully: eats 

"O mine have ebb'd away for ever- And uses, careless of the rest; but 

more, Fame, 

And all thro' following you to this The Fame that follows death Is 

wild wood, nothing to us; 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 279 

And what is Fame in life but half- Being but ampler means to serve 

disfame, mankind, 

And counterchanged with darkness? Should have small rest or pleasure in 

ye yourself herself, 

Know well that Envy calls you But work as vassal to the larger 

Devil's son, love. 

And since ye seem the Master of all That dwarfs the petty love of one to 

Art, one. 

They fain would make you Master of Use gave me Fame at first, and Fame 

all vice." again 

Increasing gave me use. Lo, there 

And Merlin lock'd his hand in my boon ! 

hers and said, What other? for men sought to 

*' I once was looking for a magic prove me vile, 

weed. Because I fain had given them 

And found a fair young squire who greater wits: 

sat alone, And then did Envy call me Devil's 

Had carved himself a knightly shield son : 

of wood. The sick, weak beast seeking to help 

And then was painting on it fancied herself 

arms. By striking at her better, miss'd, and 

Azure, an Eagle rising or, the Sun brought 

In dexter chief; the scroll, *I follow Her own claw back, and wounded 

fame.' her own heart. 

And speaking not, but leaning over Sweet were the days when I was all 

him, unknown, 

I took his brush and blotted out the But when my name was lifted up, 

bird, the storm 

And made a Gardener putting in a Brake on the mountain and I cared 

graft, not for it. 

With this for motto, ' Rather use Right well know I that Fame is 

than fame.' half-disfame, 

You should have seen him blush; Yet needs must work my work. 

but afterwards That other fame. 

He made a stalwart knight. O To one at least, who hath not chil- 

Vivien, dren, vague. 

For you, methinks you think you love The cackle of the unborn about the 

me well; grave, 

For me, I love you somewhat; rest: I cared not for it: a single misty 

and Love star, 

Should have some rest and pleasure Which is the second in a line of 

in himself, stars 

Not ever be too curious for a boon, That seem a sword beneath a belt of 

Too prurient for a proof against the three, 

grain I never gazed upon it but I dreamt 

Of him ye say ye love: but Fame Of some vast charm concluded in 

with men, that star 



28o IDYLLS OF THE KING 

To make fame nothing. Wherefore, And one to make me jealous if I 

if I fear, love. 

Giving you power upon me thro' Was this fair charm invented by 

this charm, yourself? 

That you might play me falsely, hav- I well believe that all about this. 

ing power, world 

However well ye think ye love me Ye cage a buxom captive here and. 

now there, 

(As sons of kings loving in pupilage Closed in the four walls of a hollow 

Have turn'd to tyrants when they tower 

came to power) From which is no escape for ever- 

I rather dread the loss of use than more." 

fame; 

H you — and not so much from Then the great Master merrily 

wickedness, answer'd her: 

As some wild turn of anger, or a " Full many a love in loving youth 

mood was mine ; 

Of overstrain'd affection, it may be, I needed then no charm to keep them 

To keep me all to your own self, — mine 

or else But 3'outh and love; and that full 

A sudden spurt of woman's jeal- heart of yours 

ousy, — Whereof ye prattle, may now assure 

Should try this charm on whom ye you mine; 

say ye love." So live uncharm'd. For those who 

wrought it first. 

And Vivien answer'd smiling as In The wrist is parted from the hand 

wrath, that waved, 

"Have I not sworn? I am not The feet unmortised from their 

trusted. Good ! ankle-bones 

Well, hide it, hide it; I shall find it Who paced it, ages back: but will ye 

out; hear 

And being found take heed of Vivien. The legend as in guerdon for your 

A woman and not trusted, doubtless rhyme? 

I 

Might feel some sudden turn of " There lived a king in the most 

anger born Eastern East, 

Of your misfaith; and your fine Less old than I, yet older, for my 

epithet blood 

Is accurate, too, for this full love of Hath earnest in it of far springs to 

mine be. 

Without the full heart back may A tawny pirate anchor'd in his port^ 

merit well Whose bark had plunder'd twenty 

Your term of overstrain'd. So used nameless isles; 

as I, And passing one, at the high peep of 

My daily wonder is, I love at all. dawn. 

And as to woman's jealousy, O why He saw two cities in a thousand 

not ? boats 

O to what end, except a jealous one, All fighting for a woman on the sea. 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 281 

And pushing his black craft among A league of mountain full of golden 

them all, mines, 

He lightly scatter'd theirs and A province with a hundred miles of 

brought her off, coast. 

With loss of half his people arrow- A palace and a princess, all for 

slain ; him : 

A maid so smooth, so white, so But on all those who tried and fail'd, 

wonderful, the King 
They said a light came from her Pronounced a dismal sentence, mean- 
when she moved : ing by it 
And since the pirate would not yield To keep the list low and pretenders 

her up, back. 

The King impaled him for his Or like a king, not to be trifled 

piracy ; with — 

Then made her Queen: but those Their heads should molder on the 

isle-nurtured eyes city gates. 

Waged such unwilling tho' success- And many tried and fail'd, because 

ful war the charm 

On all the youth, they sicken'd ; Of nature in her overbore their own : 

councils thinn'd. And many a wizard brow bleach'd 

And armies waned, for magnet-like on the walls: 

she drew And many weeks a troop of carrion 

The rustiest iron of old fighters' crows 

hearts; Hung like a cloud above the gateway 

And beasts themselves would wor- towers." 

ship ; camels knelt 

Unbidden, and the brutes of moun- And Vivien breaking in upon him, 

tain back said : 

That carry kings in castles, bow'd "I sit and gather honey; yet, me- 

black knees thinks, 

Of homage, ringing with their Thy tongue has tript a little: ask 

serpent hands, thyself. 

To make her smile, her golden ankle- The lady never made unwilling war 

bells. ^ With those fine eyes: she had her 

What wonder, being jealous, that he pleasure in it, 

sent And made her good man jealous with 

His horns of proclamation out thro' good cause. 

all And lived there neither dame nor 

The hundred under-kingdoms that damsel then 

he sway'd Wroth at a lover's loss? were all 

To find a wizard who might teach as tame, 

the King I mean, as noble, as their Queen was 

Some charm, which being wrought fair? 

upon the Queen Not one to flirt a venom at her eyes, 

Might keep her all his own: to such Or pinch a murcferous dust into her 

a one drink. 

He promised more than ever king has Or make her paler with a polson'd 

given, rose ? 



2b2 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Well, those were not our days: tut And lash'd it at the base with slant- 
did they find ing storm; 
A wizard? Tell me, was he like to Or in the noon of mist and driving 
thee?" rain. 

When the lake whiten'd and the pine- 
She ceased, and made her lithe a j .u • >j 

J , . , And the cairn d mountam was a 

arm round his neck , , ,, 

,-n- \ J ^1 I u 1 J 1 4. shadow, sunn d 

lighten, and then drew back, and let ^, ,, ' . , 

, 1 he world to peace again : here was 

her eyes i 

Speak for her, glowing on him, like ., ux* ^u j 'ju- 

^ 1 -i y And so by force they dragg d him to 

a bride s i rr- 

On her new lord, her own, the first a j 4.u i, .. w ..u i^- 

, ' And then he taught the King to 

of men. u ..u r\ 

charm the vjueen 

In such-wise, that no man could see 

He answer'd laughing, " Nay, not her more, 

like to me. Nor saw she save the King, who 

At last they found — his foragers for wrought the charm, 

charms — Coming and going, and she lay as 

A little glassy-headed hairless man, dead. 

Who lived alone in a great wild on And lost all use of life: but when the 

grass ; King 

Read but one book, and ever reading Made proffer of the league of 

grew golden mines. 

So grated down and filed away with The province with a hundred miles 

thought, of coast. 

So lean his eyes were monstrous; The palace and the princess, that old 

while the skin man 

Clung but to crate and basket, ribs Went back to his old wild, and lived 

and spine. on grass, 

And since he kept his mind on one And vanished, and his book came 

sole aim, down to me." 
Nor ever touch'd fierce wine, nor 

tasted flesh, 

Nor own'd a sensual wish, to him the And Vivien answer'd smiling 

wall saucily : 

That sunders ghosts and shadow- "Ye have the book: the charm is 

casting men written in it: 

Became a crystal, and he saw them Good: take my counsel: let me 

thro' it, know it at once: 

And heard their voices talk behind For keep it like a puzzle chest in 

the wall, chest. 

And learnt their elemental secrets, With each chest lock'd and padlock'd 

powers thirty-fold, 

And forces; often o'er the sun's And whelm all this beneath as vast 

bright eye a mound 

Drew the vast eyelid of an inky As after a furious battle turfs the 

cloud, slain 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 



283 



On some wild down above the windy 

deep, 
I yet should strike upon a sudden 

means 
To dig, pick, open, find and read the 

charm : 
Then, if I tried it, who should blame 

me then? " 

And smiling as a master smiles at 
one 

That is not of his school, nor any 
school 

But that where blind and naked 
Ignorance 

Delivers brawling judgments, un- 
ashamed. 

On all things all day long, he an- 
swer'd her: 

" Thou read the book, my pretty 

Vivien! 
O aye, it is but twenty pages long. 
But every page having an ample 

marge, 
And every marge enclosing in the 

midst 
A square of text that looks a little 

blot. 
The text no larger than the limbs of 

fleas; 
And every square of text an awful 

charm, 
Writ in a language that has long 

gone by. 
So long, that mountains have arisen 

since 
With cities on their flanks — thou 

read the book ! 
And every margin scribbled, crost, 

and cramm'd 
With comment, densest condensa- 
tion, hard 
To mind and eye; but the long sleep- 
less nights 
Of my long life have made it easy to 

me. 



And none can read the text, not 

even I ; 
And none can read the comment but 

myself ; 
And in the comment did I find the 

charm. 
O, the results are simple; a mere 

child 
Might use it to the harm of any- 
one. 
And never could undo it: ask no 

more: 
For tho' you should not prove it 

upon me. 
But keep that oath ye sware, ye 

might, perchance, 
Assay it on someone of the Table 

Round, 
And all because ye dream they babble 

of you." 

And Vivien, frowning in true 

anger, said : 
" What dare the full-fed liars say of 

me? 
They ride abroad redressing human 



wrongs 



They sit with knife in meat and wine 

in horn! 
They bound to holy vows of chastity ! 
Were I not woman, I could tell a 

tale. 
But you are man, you well can 

understand 
The shame that cannot be explain'd 

for shame. 
Not one of all the drove should 

touch me: swine!" 

Then answer'd Merlin careless of 

her words: 
" You breathe but accusation vast 

and vague. 
Spleen-born, I think, and proofless. 

If ye know, 
Set up the charge ye know, to stand 

or fall!" 



284 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



And Vivien answer'd frowning 
wrathfully : 

" O aye, what say ye to Sir Valence, 
him 

Whose kinsman left him watcher 
o'er his wife 

And two fair babes, and went to dis- 
tant lands; 

Was one year gone, and on return- 
ing found 

Not two but three? there lay the 
reckling, one 

But one hour old! What said the 
happy sire? 

A seven-months' babe had been a 
truer gift. 

Those twelve sweet moons confused 
his fatherhood." 



Then answer'd Merlin, " Nay, 

I know the tale. 
Sir Valence wedded with an outland 

dame : 
Some cause had kept him sunder'd 

from his wife. 
One child they had : it lived with 

her: she died: 
His kinsman traveling on his own 

affair 
Was charged by Valence to bring 

home the child. 
He brought, not found it therefore: 

take the truth." 



" O aye," said Vivien, " overtrue a 
tale. 

What say ye then to sweet Sir Sagra- 
more, 

That ardent man? 'To pluck the 
flower in season,' 

So says the song, ' I trow it is no 
treason.' 

O Master, shall we call him over- 
quick 

To crop his own sweet rose before 
the hour? " 



And Merlin answer'd, " Over- 
quick art thou 
To catch a loathly plume fall'n from 

the wing 
Of that foul bird of rapine whose 

whole prey 
Is man's good name: he never 

wrong'd his bride. 
I know the tale. An angry gust of 

wind 
Puff'd out his torch among the 

myriad-room 'd 
And many-corridor'd complexities 
Of Arthur's palace: then he found 

a door, 
And darkling felt the sculptured 

ornament 
That wreathen round it made it 

seem his own ; 
And wearied out made for the couch 

and slept, 
A stainless man beside a stainless 

maid ; 
And either slept, nor knew of other 

there ; 
Till the high dawn piercing the royal 

rose 
In Arthur's casement glimmer'd 

chastely down, 
Blushing upon them blushing, and 

at once 
He rose without a word and parted 

from her: 
But when the thing was blazed about 

the court, 
The brute world howling forced 

them into bonds, 
And as it chanced they are happy, 

being pure." 

" O aye," said Vivien, " that were 

likely, too. 
What say ye then to fair Sir Perci- 

vale 
And of the horrid foulness that he 

wrought, 
The saintly youth, the spotless lamb 

of Christ, 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 



285 



Or some black wether of St. Satan's Sir Lancelot went ambassador, at 

fold. first, 

What, in the precincts of the chapel- To fetch her, and she watch'd him 

yard, from her walls. 

Among the knightly brasses of the A rumor runs, she took him for the 

graves, King, 

And by the cold Hie Jacets of the So fixt her fancy on him: let them 



dead!" 

And Merlin answer'd careless of 

her charge, 
" A sober man is Percivale and pure ; 
But once in life was fluster'd with 

new wine. 
Then paced for coolness in the 

-,TTi i'c^' uuj " Man! is he man at all, who knows 

Where one of batan s shepherdesses j • 1 d 

■^ flnn win Irs r 



be. 
But have ye no one word of loyal 

praise 
For Arthur, blameless King and 

stainless man? " 

She answer'd with a low and 
chuckling laugh: 



and winks: 
Sees what his fair bride is and does, 

and winks? 

By which the good King means to- 

■c II u- r I I, ^ •£ -L blind himself, 

ror, look upon his face! — but if he a j ui- j u- ir 1 n 1 -^ 1 t 
. ,j And blmds himself and all the Table 



caught 
And meant to stamp him with her 

master's mark ; 
And that he sinned is not believable; 



sinn'd, 



Round 



The sm that practise burns into the t- n u r i 1 1 t 

, , J i o all the foulness that they work 

blood, ■' 

And not the one dark hour which 



brings remorse, 



Myself 
Could call him (were it not for 
womanhood) 



Will brand us, after, of whose fold ^, , , 

. 1 , 1 he pretty, popular name such man 



Or else were he, the holy king, 
whose hymns 



hood earns, 
Could call him the main cause of all 



A 1 ^ J • ^u • ^ their crime : 

Are chanted in the minster, worse ,, , > 1 t^- 

^i^^^ ^1] Yea, were he not crown d King, 

coward, and fool." 

Then Merlin to his own heart, 
loathing, said : 

"O true and tender! O my liege 
and King! 

O selfless man and stainless gentle- 
man, 

Who wouldst against thine own eye- 
witness fain 



than all. 
But is your spleen froth'd out, or 

have ye more? " 

And Vivien answer'd frowning 

yet in wrath: 
" O aye; what say ye to Sir Lancelot, 

friend 
Ti^aitor or true? that commerce with 

the Queen, 
I ask you, is it clamor'd by the child, 



Or whisper'd in the corner? do ye Have all men true and leal, all 
know it?" women pure; 

How, in the mouths of base interpre- 
To which he answer'd sadly, ters, 

" Yea, I know it. From over-fineness not intelligible 



286 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

To things with every sense as false Being so bitter: for fine plots may 

and foul fail, 

As the poach'd filth that floods the Tho' harlots paint their talk as well 

middle street, as face 

Is thy white blamelessness accounted With colors of the heart that are not 

blame! " theirs. 

I will not let her know; nine tithes 

But Vivien, deeming Merlin over- ^ a ^^ j u t u-^ ^u 

, ' ^ t ace-flatterer and backbiter are the 
borne 

Tj ■ J J 1 t same. 

Hy mstance, recommenced, and let . , , ^ i ^i .. 

■^ , ' And they, sweet soul, that most im- 

her tongue ^-^ 

T> Ti r ..u 11.- pute a crime 

Rage like a nre among the noblest . ^ .. .. v j • * *k 

^ ^ Are pronest to it, and impute them- 



names, 



selves, 



Polluting, and imputing her whole ,,7. ■ [1 ^ t 1 

,,^' ^ ^ Wanting the mental range; or low 



self. 



desire 



Defaming and defacing, till she left ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^ 

Not even Lancelot brave, nor Gala- ,, . 

1 1 1 aii , 

naa ciean. y^^^ ^j^^^ would pare the mountain 

to the plain, 

Her words had issue other than To leave an equal baseness ; and in 

she will'd. this 

He dragg'd his eyebrow bushes Are harlots like the crowd, that if 

down, and made they find 

A snowy penthouse for his hollow Some stain or blemish in a name of 

eyes, note, 

And mutter'd in himself, " Tell her Not grieving that their greatest are 

the charm! so small. 

So, if she had it, would she rail on Inflate themselves with some insane 

me delight. 

To snare the next, and if she have it And judge all nature from her feet 

not of clay. 

So will she rail. What did the wan- Without the will to lift their eyes, 

ton say? and see 

'' Not mount as high ; * we scarce can Her godlike head crown'd with spir- 

sink as low: itual fire, 

For men at most differ as Heaven And touching other worlds. I am 

and earth, weary of her." 
But women, worst and best, as 

Heaven and Hell. He spoke in words part heard, in 

I know the Table Round, my whispers part, 

friends of old; Half-suffocated in the hoary fell 

All brave, and many generous, and And many-winter'd fleece of throat 

some chaste. and chin. 

She cloaks the scar of some repulse But Vivien, gathering somewhat of 

with lies; his mood, 

I well believe she tempted them and And hearing " harlot " mutter'd 

fail'd, twice or thrice, 



MERLIN AND VIVIEN 287 

Leapt from her session on his lap, Together with a wailing shriek, and 

and stood said : 

Stiff as a viper frozen; loathsome " Stabb'd through the heart's affec- 

sight, tions to the heart! 
How from the rosy lips of life and Seethed like the kid in its own moth- 
love, er's milk! 
Flash'd the bare-grinning skeleton of Kill'd with a word worse than a life 

death! of blows! 

White was her cheek; sharp breaths I thought that he was gentle, being 

of anger puff'd great: 

Her fairy nostril out; her hand half- O God, that I had loved a smaller 

clench'd man! 

Went faltering sideways downward I should have found in him a greater 

to her belt, heart. 

And feeling; had she found a dag- O, I, that flattering my true passion, 

ger there saw 

(For in a wink the false love turns The knights, the court, the King, 

to hate) dark, in your light, 

She would have stabb'd him ; but she Who loved to make men darker than 

found it not: they are, 

His eye was calm, and suddenly she Because of that high pleasure which 

took I had 

To bitter weeping like a beaten To seat you sole upon my pedestal 

child. Of worship — I am answer'd, and 

A long, long weeping, not consol- henceforth 

able. The course of life that seem'd so 

Then her false voice made way, flowery to me 

broken with sobs: With you for guide and master, only 

you, 

" O crueller than was ever told in Becomes the sea-cliff pathway broken 

tale, short, 

Or sung in song! O vainly And ending in a ruin — nothing left, 

lavish'd love! But into some low cave to crawl, and 

O cruel, there was nothing wild or there, 

strange. If the wolf spare me, weep my life 

Or seeming shameful — for what away, 

shame in love, Kill'd with inutterable unkindli- 

So love be true, and not as yours ness." 

is — nothing 
Poor Vivien had not done to win his 

trust She paused, she turn'd away, she 

Who call'd her what he call'd her hung her head, 

— all her crime, The snake of gold slid from her 

All — all — the wish to prove him hair, the braid 

wholly hers." Slipt and uncoil'd itself, she wept 

afresh, 

She mused a little, and then clapt And the dark wood grew darker 

her hands toward the storm 



288 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

In silence, while his anger slowly Betwixt us twain henceforward ever- 
died more ; 
Within him, till he let his wisdom Since, if I be what I am grossly 

go call'd, 

For ease of heart, and half believed What should be granted which j'our 

her true: own gross heart 

Call'd her to shelter in the hollow Would reckon worth the taking? 

oak, I will go. 

'' Come from the storm," and hav- In truth, but one thing now — better 

ing no reply, have died 

Gazed at the heaving shoulder, and Thrice than have ask'd it once — 

the face could make me stay — 

Hand-hidden, as for utmost grief or That proof of trust — so often ask'd 

shame; in vain! 

Then thrice essay'd, by tenderest- How justly, after that vile term of 

touching terms, yours, 

To sleek her ruffled peace of mind, I find with grief! I might believe 

in vain. you then, 

At last she let herself be conquer'd Who knows? once more. Lo! what 

by him, was once to me 

And as the cageling newly flown re- Mere matter of the fancy, now hath 

turns, grown 

The seeming-injured simple-hearted The vast necessity of heart and life. 

thing Farewell; think gently of me, for I 

Came to her old perch back, and set- fear 

tied there. My fate or folly, passing gayer youth 

There while she sat, half-falling For one so old, must be to love thee 

from his knees, still. 

Half-nestled at his heart, and since But ere I leave thee let me swear 

he saw once more 

The slow tear creep from her closed That if I schemed against thy peace 

eyelid yet, in this, 

About her, more in kindness than in May yon just heaven, that darkens 

love, o'er me, send 

The gentle wizard cast a shielding One flash, that, missing all things 

arm. else, may make 

But she dislink'd herself at once and My scheming brain a cinder, if I lie. 

rose, 

Her arms upon her breast across, Scarce had she ceased, when out 

and stood, of heaven a bolt 

A virtuous gentlewoman deeply (For now the storm was close above 

wrong'd, them) struck. 
Upright and flush'd before him: Furrowing a giant oak, and javelin- 
then she said : ing 

With darted spikes and splinters of 
the wood 

" There must be now no passages The dark earth round. He raised 

of love his eyes and saw 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 



289 



The tree that shone white-listed Had left the ravaged woodland yet 

thro' the gloom. once more 

But Vivien, fearing heaven had To peace; and what should not have 

heard her oath, been had been, 

And dazzled by the livid-flickering For Merlin, overtalk'd and over- 
fork, worn. 

And deafen'd with the stammering Had yielded, told her all the charm, 

cracks and claps and slept. 

That follow'd, flying back and cry- 
ing out. Then, in one moment, she put 

" O Merlin, tho' you do not love me, forth the charm 

save. Of woven paces and of waving 

Yet save me!" clung to him and hands, 

hugg'd him close ; And in the hollow oak he lay as dead, 

And call'd him dear protector in her And lost to life and use and name 

fright, and fame. 

Nor yet forgot her practise in her 



fright. 
But wrought upon his mood and 

hugg'd him close. 
The pale blood of the wizard at her 

touch 
Took gayer colors, like an opal 

warm'd. 
She blamed herself for telling hear- 
say tales : 
She shook from fear, and for her 

fault she wept 
Of petulancy; she call'd him lord 

and liege, 



Then crying, " I have made his 

glory mine," 
And shrieking out, " O fool ! " the 

harlot leapt 
Adown the forest, and the thicket 

closed 
Behind her, and the forest echo'd 

" fool." 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable, 



Her seer, her bard, her silver star of Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, 



eve. 

Her God, her Merlin, the one pas- 
sionate love 

Of her whole life ; and ever over- 
head 

Bellow'd the tempest, and the rotten 
branch 

Snapt in the rushing of the river- 
rain 

Above them ; and in change of glare 
and gloom 

Her eyes and neck glittering went 
and came; 



High in her chamber up a tower to 
the east 

Guarded the sacred shield of Lance- 
lot; 

Which first she placed where morn- 
ing's earliest ray 

Might strike it, and awake her with 
the gleam ; 

Then fearing rust or soilure fashion'd 
for it 

A case of silk, and braided there- 
upon 

All the devices blazon'd on the shield 



Till now the storm, its burst of pas- In their own tinct, and added, of her 

sion spent, wit, 

Moaning and calling out of other A border fantasy of branch and 

lands, flower, 



290 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And yellow-throated nestling in the Roving the trackless realms of Lyon- 

nest, nesse, 

Nor rested thus content, but day by Had found a glen, gray boulder and 

day, black tarn. 

Leaving her household and good A horror lived about the tarn, and 

father, climb'd clave 

That eastern tower, and entering Like its own mists to all the moun- 

barr'd her door, tain side: 

Stript off the case, and read the For here two brothers, one a king, 

naked shield, had met 

Now guess'd a hidden meaning in his And fought together; but their 

arms, names were lost; 

Now made a pretty history to her- And each had slain his brother at a 

self blow ; 

Of every dint a sword had beaten in And down they fell and made the 

it, glen abhorr'd : 

And every scratch a lance had made And there they lay till all their bones 

upon it, were bleach'd, 

Conjecturing when and where: this And lichen'd into color with the 

cut is fresh ; crags : 

That ten years back; this dealt him And he, that once was king, had on 

at Caerlyle ; a crown 

That at Caerleon ; this at Camelot: Of diamonds, one in front, and four 

And ah, God's mercy, what a stroke aside. 

was there! And Arthur came, and laboring up 

And here a thrust that might have the pass, 

kill'd, but God All in a misty moonshine, unawares 

Broke the strong lance, and roU'd his Had trodden that crown'd skeleton, 

enemy down, and the skull 

And saved him: so she lived in fan- Brake from the nape, and from the 

tasy. skull the crown 

Roll'd into light, and turning on its 

How came the lily maid by that t-i i i-i t • • ^ , 

good shield ^^ ^^^^ ^ glittermg rivulet to the 

Of Lancelot, she that knew not ev'n a i i " i i • i i 

his name^ ^^" shmgly scaur he 

He left it with her, when he rode to ^ , Pl""^^^' ^"^. ^V"^^'^ , . ^. 

•1 And set it on his head, and in his 

For the great diamond in the dia- tt j « t i i-i • 

J • ^ Heard murmurs, Lo, thou likewise 

mond jousts, h li- h K " 

Which Arthur had ordain'd, and by ^' 

TT J J ^u • J- J Thereafter, when a King, he had 

Had named them, since a diamond , ' ^' 

.1 . the gems 

was the prize. t»i i»j f^ i_ j l >j 

rluck d from the crown, and show d 

them to his knights. 

For Arthur, long before they Saying, " These jewels, whereupon I 

crown'd him King, chanced 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 291 

Divinely, are the kingdom's, not the Of Lancelot, and his prowess in the 

King's — lists, 

For public use: henceforward let A sight ye love to look on." And 

there be, the Queen 

Once every year, a joust for one of Lifted her eyes, and they dwelt 

these: languidly 

For so by nine years' proof we needs On Lancelot, where he stood beside 

must learn the King. 

Which is our mightiest, and our- He thinking that he read her mean- 
selves shall grow ing there, 

In use of arms and manhood, till we " Stay with me, I am sick ; my love is 

drive more 

The heathen, who, some say, shall Than many diamonds," yielded ; and 

rule the land a heart 

Hereafter, which God hinder." Love-loyal to the least wish of the 

Thus he spoke: Queen 

And eight years past, eight jousts (However much he yearn'd to make 

had been, and still complete 

Had Lancelot won the diamond of The tale of diamonds for his destined 

the year, boon) 

With purpose to present them to the Urged him to speak against the truth, 

Queen, and say. 

When all were won ; but meaning " Sir King, mine ancient wound is 

all at once hardly whole. 

To snare her royal fancy with a And lets me from the saddle ; " and 

boon the King 

Worth half her realm, had never Glanced first at him, then her, and 

spoken w^ord. went his way. 

No sooner gone than suddenly she 
began : 
Now for the central diamond and 

the last 
And largest, Arthur, holding then his "To blame, my lord, Sir Lance- 

court lot, much to blame ! 

Hard on the river nigh the place Why go ye not to these fair jousts? 

w^hich now the knights 

Is this world's hugest, let proclaim a Are half of them our enemies, and 

joust the crowd 

At Camelot, and when the time drew Will murmur, * Lo, the shameless 

nigh ones, who take 

Spake (for she had been sick) to Their pastime now the trustful King 

Guinevere, is gone ! ' " 

" Are you so sick, my Queen, you Then Lancelot vext at having lied in 

cannot move vain: 

To these fair jousts?" "Yea, "Are ye so wise? ye were not once 

lord," she said, " ye know it." so wise, 

" Then will ye miss," he answer'd, My Queen, that summer, when ye 

" the great deeds loved me first. 



292 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Then of the crowd ye took no more Rapt in this fancy of his Table 

account Round, 

Than of the myriad cricket of the And swearing men to vows impossi- 

mead, ble, 

When its own voice clings to each To make them like himself: but, 

blade of grass, friend, to me 

And every voice is nothing. As to He is all fault who hath no fault at 

knights, all : 

Them surely can I silence with all For who loves me must have a touch 

ease. of earth ; 

But now my loyal worship is The low sun makes the color: I am 

allow'd yours. 

Of all men: many a bard, without Not Arthur's, as ye know, save by 

offense, the bond. 

Has link'd our names together in his And therefore hear my words: go to 

lay, the jousts: 

Lancelot, the flower of bravery. The tiny-trumpeting gnat can break 

Guinevere, our dream 

The pearl of beauty: and our When sweetest; and the vermin 

knights at feast voices here 

Have pledged us in this union, while May buzz so loud — we scorn them, 

the King but they sting." 
Would listen smiling. How" then? 

is there more? Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief 

Has Arthur spoken aught? or would of knights: 

yourself, " And with what face, after my pre- 

Now weary of my service and devoir, text made. 

Henceforth be truer to your fault- Shall I appear, O Queen, at Came- 

less lord ? " lot, I 

Before a King who honors his own 

She broke into a little scornful word, 

laugh: As if it were his God's? " 
" Arthur, my lord, Arthur, the fault- 
less King, " Yea," said the Queen, 
That passionate perfection, my good " A moral child without the craft to 

lord — rule. 

But who can gaze upon the Sun in Else had he not lost me: but listen to 

heaven ? me. 

He never spake word of reproach to If I must find you wit: we hear it 

me, said 

He never had a glimpse of mine That men go down before your spear 

untruth, at a touch, 

He cares not for me: only here But knowing you are Lancelot; your 

to-day great name. 

There gleam'd a vague suspicion in This conquers: hide it therefore; go 

his eyes: unknown: 

Some meddling rogue has tamper'd Win! by this kiss you will: and our 

with him — else true King 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 293 

Will then allow your pretext, O my Elaine, his daughter: mother of the 

knight, house 

As all for glory; for to speak him There was not: some light jest 

true, among them rose 

Ye know right well, how meek soe'er With laughter dying down as the 

he seem, great knight 

No keener hunter after glory Approach'd them: then the Lord of 

breathes. Astolat : 

He loves it in his knights more than " Whence comest thou, my guest, and 

himself: by what name 

They prove to him his work: win Livest between the lips? for by thy 

and return." state 

And presence I might guess thee 
chief of those, 

Then got Sir Lancelot suddenly to After the King, who eat in Arthur's 

horse, halls. 

Wroth at himself. Not willing to Him have I seen : the rest, his Table 

be known, Round, 

He left the barren-beaten thorough- Known as they are, to me they are 

fare, unknown." 
Chose the green path that show'd the 

rarer foot, Then answer'd Lancelot, the chief 

And there among the solitary downs, of knights: 

Full often lost in fancy, lost his " Known am I, and of Arthur's hall, 

way ; and known. 

Till as he traced a faintly-shadow'd What I by mere mischance have 

track, brought, my shield. 

That all in loops and links among But since I go to joust as one un- 

the dales known 

Ran to the Castle of Astolat, he saw At Camelot for the diamond, ask me 

Fired from the west, far on a hill, not, 

the towers. Hereafter ye shall know me — and 

Thither he made, and blew the gate- the shield — 

way horn. I pray you lend me one, if such you 

Then came an old, dumb, myriad- have, 

wrinkled man, Blank, or at least with some device 

Who let him into lodging and dis- not mine." 

arm'd. 

And Lancelot marvel'd at the word- Then said the Lord of Astolat, 

less man; "Here is Torre's: 

And issuing found the Lord of Asto- Hurt in his first tilt was my son. Sir 

lat Torre. 

With two strong sons. Sir Torre and And so, God wot, iiis shield is blank 

Sir Lavaine, enough. 

Moving to meet him in the castle His ye can have." Then added 

court; plain Sir Torre, 

And close behind them stept the lily " Yea, since I cannot use it, ye may 

maid have it." 



294 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Here laugh'd the father, saying, 
" Fie, Sir Churl, 

Is that an answer for a noble knight? 

Allow him! but Lavaine, my younger 
here. 

He is so full of lustihood, he will 
ride. 

Joust for it, and win, and bring it in 
an hour. 

And set it in this damsel's golden 
hair. 

To make her thrice as wilful as be- 
fore." 



" Nay, father, nay, good father, 

shame me not 
Before this noble knight," said young 

Lavaine, 
" For nothing. Surely I but play'd 

on Torre: 
He seem'd so sullen, vext he could 

not go: 
A jest, no more! for, knight, the 

maiden dreamt 
That some one put this diamond in 

her hand, 
And that it was too slippery to be 

held. 
And slipt and fell into some pool or 

stream, 
The castle-well, belike ; and then I 

said 
That // I went and if I fought and 

won it 
(But all was jest and joke among 

ourselves) 
Then must she keep it safelier. All 

was jest. 
But, father, give me leave, an if he 

will, 
To ride to Camelot with this noble 

knight: 
Win shall I not, bur do my best to 

win: 
Young as I am, yet would I do mv 

best." 



" So ye will grace me," answer'd 

Lancelot, 
Smiling a moment, " with your fel- 
lowship 
O'er these waste downs whereon I 

lost myself, 
Then were I glad of you as guide 

and friend : 
And you shall win this diamond, — 

as I hear 
It is a fair large diamond, — if ye 

may, 
And yield it to this maiden, if ye 

will." 
" A fair large diamond," added plain 

Sir Torre, 
" Such be for queens, and not for 

simple maids." 
Then she, who held her eyes upon 

the ground, 
Elaine, and heard her name so tost 

about, 
Flush'd slightly at the slight dispar- 
agement 
Before the stranger knight, who, 

looking at her, 
Full courtly, yet not falsely, thus 

return'd : 
" If what is fair be but for what is 

fair, 
And only queens are to be counted 

so. 
Rash were my judgnicnt then, who 

deem this maid 
Might w-ear as fair a jewel as is on 

earth, 
Not violating the bond of like to 

like." 



He spoke and ceased : the lily 
maid, Elaine, 

Won bv the mellow voice before she 
look'd, 

Lifted her eyes, and read his linea- 
ments. 

The great and guilty love he bare the 
Queen, 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 295 

In battle with the love he bare his But Lancelot, when they glanced at 

lord, Guinevere, 

Had marr'd his face, and mark'd it Suddenly speaking of the wordless 

ere his time. man. 

Another sinning on such heights with Heard from the Baron that, ten years 

one, before. 

The flower of all the west and all The heathen caught and reft him of 

the world, his tongue. 

Had been the sleeker for it: but in "He learnt and warn'd me of their 

him fierce design 

His mood was often like a fiend, and Against my house, and him they 

rose caught and maim'd; 

And drove him into wastes and soli- But I, my sons, and little daugliter 

tudes fled 

For agony, who was yet a living From bonds or death, and dwelt 

soul. among the woods 

Marr'd as he was, he seem'd the By the great river in a boatman's hut. 

goodliest man Dull days were those, till our good 

That ever among ladies ate in hall, Arthur broke 

And noblest, when she lifted up her The Pagan yet once more on Badon 

eyes, hill." 
However marr'd, of more than twice 

her years, 

Seem'd with an ancient swordcut on " O there, great lord, doubtless," 

the cheek, Lavaine said, rapt 

And bruised and bronzed, she lifted By all the sweet and sudden passion 

up her eyes of youth 

And loved him, with that love which Toward greatness in its elder, " you 

was her doom. have fought. 

O tell us — for we live apart — you 
know 

Then the great knight, the dar- Of Arthur's glorious wars." And 

ling of the court, Lancelot spoke 

Loved of the loveliest, into that rude And answer'd 'him at full, as having 

hall been 

Stept with all grace, and not with With Arthur in the fight which all 

half disdain day long 

Plid under grace, as in a smaller time. Rang by the white mouth of the vio- 

But kindly man moving among his lent Glem ; 

kind: And in the four loud battles by the 

Whom they with meats and vintage shore 

of their best Of Duglas; that on Bassa; then the 

And talk and minstrel melody enter- war 

tain'd. That thunder'd in and out the gloomy 

And much they ask'd of court and skirts 

Table Round, Of Celidon the forest; and again 

And ever well and readily answer'd By castle Gurnion, where the glori- 

he: ous King 



296 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Had on his cuirass worn our Lady's " Save your great self, fair lord ; '* 

Head, and when he fell 

Carved of one emerald center'd in a From talk of war to traits of pleas- 

sun antry — 

Of silver rays, that lighten'd as he Being mirthful he, but in a stately 

breathed ; kind — 

And at Caerleon had he help'd his She still took note that when the liv- 

lord, ing smile 

When the strong neighings of the Died from his lips, across him came a 

wild white Horse cloud 

Set every gilded parapet shuddering; Of melancholy severe, from which 

And up in Agned-Cathregonion, too, again. 

And down the waste sand-shores of Whenever in her hovering to and 

Trath Treroit, fro 

Where many a heathen fell ; " and on The lily maid had striven to make 

the mount him cheer, 
Of Badon I myself beheld the King There brake a sudden-beaming ten- 
Charge at the head of all his Table derness 

Round, Of manners and of nature: and she 

And all his legions crying Christ and thought 

him. That all was nature, all, perchance, 

And break them; and I saw him, for her. 

after, stand And all night long his face before her 

High on a heap of slain, from spur to lived, 

plume As when a painter, poring on a face, 

Red as the rising sun with heathen Divinely thro' all hindrance finds the 

blood, man 

And seeing me, with a great voice he Behind it, and so paints him that his 

cried, face, 

' They are broken, they are broken ! ' The shape and color of a mind and 

for the King, life. 

However mild he seems at home, nor Lives for his children, ever at its best 

cares And fullest; so the face before her 

For triumph in our mimic wars, the lived, 

jousts — Dark-splendid, speaking in the silence, 

For if his own knight cast him down, full 

he laughs Of noble things, and held her from 

Saying, his knights are better men her sleep. 

than he — Till rathe she rose, half-cheated in 

Yet in this heathen war the fire of the thought 

God She needs must bid farewell to sweet 

Fills him: I never saw his like: there Lavaine. 

lives First as in fear, step after step, she 

No greater leader." stole 

Down the long tower-stairs, hesita- 

While he utter'd this, ting: 

Low to her own heart said the lily Anon, she heard Sir Lancelot cry in 

maid, the court, 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 297 

" This shield, my friend, where is And found it true, and answer'd, 

it?" and Lavaine "True, my child. 

Past inward, as she came from out Well, I will wear it : fetch it out to 

the tower. me: 

There to his proud horse Lancelot What is it?" and she told him, "A 

turn'd, and smooth'd red sleeve 

The glossy shoulder, humming to Broider'd with pearls," and brought 

himself. it: then he bound 

Half-envious of the flattering hand, Her token on his helmet, with a smile 

she drew Saying, '' I never yet have done so 

Nearer and stood. He look'd, and mucii 

more amazed For any maiden living," and the blood 

Than if seven men had set upon him, Sprang to her face and fill'd her with 

saw delight ; 
The maiden standing in the dewy But left her all the paler, when La- 
light, vaine 
He had not dream'd she was so beau- Returning brought the yet-unblazon'd 

tiful. shield. 

Then came on him a sort of sacred His brother's; which he gave to 

fear, Lancelot, 

For silent, tho' he greeted her, she Who parted with his own to fair 

stood Elaine: 

Rapt on his face as if it were a " Do me this grace, my child, to have 

God's. my shield 

Suddenly flash'd on her a wild desire. In keeping till I come." " A grace to 

That he should wear her favor at the me," 

tilt. She answer'd, " twice to-day. I am 

She braved a riotous heart in asking your squire! " 

for it. WTiereat Lavaine said, laughing, 

" Fair lord, whose name I know not " Lily maid, 

— noble it is. For fear our people call you lily 

I well believe, the noblest — will you maid 

wear In earnest, let me bring your color 

My favor at this tourney? " " Nay," back; 

said he. Once, twice, and thrice: now get you 

" Fair lady, since I never yet have hence to bed : " 

worn So kiss'd her, and Sir Lancelot his 

Favor of any lady in the lists. own hand, 

Such is my wont, as those, who know And thus they moved away: she stay'd 

me, know." a minute, 

" Yea, so," she answer'd ; " then in Then made a sudden step to the gate, 

wearing mine and there — 

Needs must be lesser likelihood, Her bright hair blown about the seri- 

noble lord, ous face 

That those who know should know Yet rosy-kindled with her brother's 

you." And he turn'd kiss — 

Her counsel up and down within his Paused by the gateway, standing near 

mind, the shield 



298 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



In silence, while she watch'd their 

arms far-off 
Sparkle, until they dipt below the 

downs. 
Then to her tower she climb'd, and 

took the shield, 
There kept it, and so lived in fantasy. 

Meanwhile the new companions 
past away 

Far o'er the long backs of the bush- 
less downs. 

To where Sir Lancelot knew there 
lived a knight 

Not far from Camelot, now for forty 
years 

A hermit, who had pray'd, labor'd and 
pray'd, 

And ever laboring had scoop'd himself 

In the white rock a chapel and a hall 

On massive columns, like a shorecliff 
cave. 

And cells and chambers: all were fair 
and dry; 

The green light from the meadows 
underneath 

Struck up and lived along the milky 
roofs ; 

And in the meadows tremulous as- 
pen trees 

And poplars made a noise of falling 
showers. 

And thither wending there that night 
they bode. 

But when the next day broke from 
underground, 

And shot red fire and shadows thro' 
the cave, 

They rose, heard mass, broke fast, and 
rode away : 

Then Lancelot saying, " Hear, but 
hold my name 

Hidden, you ride with Lancelot of the 
Lake." 

Abash'd Lavaine, whose instant rever- 
ence, 



Dearer to true young hearts than 

their own praise. 
But left him leave to stammer, " Is it 

indeed? " 
And after muttering, " The great 

Lancelot," 
At last he got his breath and answer'd, 

" One, 
One have I seen — that other, our 

liege lord, 
The dread Pendragon, Britain's King 

of kings. 
Of whom the people talk mysteriously, 
He will be there — then were I 

stricken blind 
That minute, I might say that I had 

seen." 

So spake Lavaine, and when they 

reach'd the lists 
By Camelot in the meadow, let his 

eyes 
Run thro' the peopled gallery which 

half round 
Lay like a rainbow fall'n upon the 

grass. 
Until they found the clear-faced 

King, who sat 
Robed in red samite, easily to be 

known, 
Since to his crown the golden dragon 

clung. 
And down his robe the dragon 

writhed in gold, 
And from the carven-work behind him 

crept 
Two dragons gilded, sloping down to 

make 
Arms for his chair, while all the rest 

of them 
Thro' knots and loops and folds Innu- 
merable 
Fled ever thro' the woodwork, till 

they found 
The new design wherein they lost 

themselves. 
Yet with all ease, so tender was the 

work : 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 299 

And, in the costly canopy o'er him set, Ranged with the Table Round that 

Blazed the last diamond of the name- held the lists, 

less king. Strong men, and wrathful that a 

stranger knight 

rr., T 1 »j Should do and almost overdo the 

1 hen Lancelot answer d young , , 

Lavaine and said, ^r t i ^ i -j ^ .u 

.,-., ,, • • .u ^r Lancelot: and one said to the 

Me you call great: mme is the , ,, V ( 

firmer seat, -ixru ^ • 'u ? t j ^ ^u 

r^^, ILL- What is her 1 do not mean the 

Ihe truer lance: but there is many a r , 

, ■^ lorce alone — 

T.T ^ ^ , .,, ^ 11 T The grace and versatility of the 

Now crescent, who will come to all i '^ , •' 

' man! 

. .^''^ . , . . Is it not Lancelot?" "When has 

And overcome it; and in me there j , ^ 

J ,, Lancelot worn 

T^T • 1 r rr Favor of any lady in the lists? 

JNo greatness, save it be some tar-olt -^.r^ , ,. \ *u ^ i 

^ , ' JNot such his wont, as we, that know 

touch u- 1 " 

/-\r I II T ^ him, know. 

Of greatness to know well 1 am not ,< tt *u :> u *k > " i 

^ ^ How then r who then i a fury 

,^. ^ . ' )) A J T • seized them all, 

There is the man. And Lavaine ^ ^ ^^^.^ .^^ ^^^ ^^^ 

gaped upon him 

As on a thing miraculous, and anon ^^ t i ^ j i vu 

%^. ^ , , j' , J.J (Jf Lancelot, and a glory one with 

The trumpets blew; and then did theirs 

ei X er si e. They couch'd their spears and prick'd 

They that assail d, and they that held ^j^^j^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ 

the lists, Their plumes driv'n backward by the 

Set lance m rest, strike spur, suddenly ^.j^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ 

move. In moving, all together down upon 

Meet in the midst, and there so j^j^ 

„, , "^'*^"^ y . „ . , ,, Bare, as a wild wave in the wide 

Shock, that a man far-oit might well North-sea 

perceive, , r r u Green-glimmering toward the sum- 

If any man that day were left afield, ^.^^ ^^^^^^ ^j^j^ ^1^ 

The hard earth shake, and a low j^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^j^^^ 

thunder of arms. ^j^^ ^j^l^^ 

And Lancelot bode a little, till he j^^^^ ^^ ^ f,^^^^ ^^^ overbears the 

saw j^^j.j^ 
Which w-ere the weaker; then he ^^^ him 'that helms it, so they over- 
hurl d into it j^Qj.g 
Against the stronger: little need to gj^ Lancelot and his charger, and a 

speak spear 

Of Lancelot in his glory! King, Down-glancing lamed the charger, 

duke, earl, ^^^ ^ ^p^^^. 

Count, baron — whom he smote, he pj.j^,^,j ^^^^^^^ j^j^ ^^^^ ^^^j^^^^^ ^^^ 

o^^rthx^^. ^ ^he head ^ 

Pierced thro' his side, and there snapt, 

But In the field were Lancelot's and remain'd. 

kith and kin, 



300 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Then Sir Lavaine did well and Draw," — and Lavaine drew, and Sir 

worshipfully ; Lancelot gave 

He bore a knight of old repute to the A marvelous great shriek and ghastly 

earth, groan, 

And brought his horse to Lancelot And half his blood burst forth, and 

where he lay. down he sank 

He up the side, sweating with agony, For the pure pain, and wholly 

got, swoon'd away. 

But thought to do while he might yet Then came the hermit out and bare 

endure, him in. 

And being lustily holpen by the rest, There stanch'd his wound ; and there. 

His party, — tho' it seem'd half- in daily doubt 

miracle Whether to live or die, for many a 

To those he fought with, — drave his week 

kith and kin. Hid from the wide world's rumor by 

And all the Table Round that held the grove 

the lists. Of poplars with their noise of falling 

Back to the barrier; then the trumpets showers, 

blew And ever-tremulous aspen-trees, he 

Proclaiming his the prize, who wore lay. 

the sleeve 

Of scarlet, and the pearls ; and all the But on that day when Lancelot fled 

knights, the lists. 

His party, cried, " Advance and take His party, knights of utmost North 

thy prize and West, 

The diamond ; " but he answer'd. Lords of waste marshes, kings of 

" Diamond me desolate isles, 

No diamonds! for God's love, a little Came round their great Pendragon, 

air! saying to him. 

Prize me no prizes, for my prize is ' Lo, Sire, our knight, thro' whom we 

death! won the day. 

Hence will I, and I charge you, follow Hath gone sore wounded, and hath 

me not." left his prize 

Untaken, crying that his prize is 

He spoke, and vanish'd suddenly death." 

from the field " Heaven hinder," said the King, 

With young Lavaine into the poplar " that such an one, 

grove. So great a knight as we have seen to- 

There from his charger down he slid, day — 

and sat. He seem'd to me another Lancelot — 

Gasping to Sir Lavaine, " Draw the Yea, twenty times I thought him 

lance-head : " Lancelot — 

" Ah my sweet lord Sir Lancelot," He must not pass uncared for. 

said Lavaine, Wherefore, rise, 

" I dread me, if I draw it, you will O Gawain, and ride forth and find 

die." the knight. 

But he, " I die already with it: Wounded and wearied needs must he 

draw — be near. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 301 

I charge you that you get at once to So all in wrath he got to horse and 

horse. went ; 

And, knights and kings, there While Arthur to the banquet, dark in 

breathes not one of you mood, 

Will deem this prize of ours is rashly Past, thinking, " Is it Lancelot who 

given : hath come 

His prowess was too wondrous. We Despite the wound he spake of, all for 

will do him gain 

No customary honor : since the knight Of glory, and hath added wound to 

Came not to us, of us to claim the wound, 

prize, And ridd'n away to die?" So 

Ourselves will send it after. Rise fear'd the King, 

and take And, after two days' tarriance there, 

This diamond, and deliver it, and return'd. 

return. Then when he saw the Queen, em- 

And bring us where he is, and how bracing ask'd, 

he fares, " Love, are you yet so sick ? " "Nay, 

And cease not from your quest until lord," she said. 

ye find." " And where is Lancelot ? " Then the 

Queen amazed. 

So saying, from the carven flower " Was he not with you ? won he not 

above, your prize?" 

To which it made a restless heart, he " Nay, but one like him." " Why 

took, that like was he." 

And gave the diamond: then from And when the King demanded how 

where he sat she knew. 

At Arthur's right, with smiling face Said, " Lord, no sooner had ye parted 

arose, from us. 

With smiling face and frowning heart Than Lancelot told me of a common 

a Prince talk 

In the mid might and flourish of his That men went down before his spear 

May, at a touch, 

Gawain, surnamed The Courteous, But knowing he was Lancelot ; his 

fair and strong, great name 

And after Lancelot, Tristram, and Conquer'd ; and therefore would he 

Geraint hide his name 

And Gareth, a good knight, but From all men, ev'n the King, and to 

therewithal this end 

Sir Modred's brother, and the child Had made the pretext of a hindering 

of Lot, wound, 

Nor often loyal to his word, and That he might joust unknown of all, 

now and learn 

Wroth that the King's command to If his old prowess were in aught 

sally forth decay'd ; 

In quest of whom he knew not, made And added, ' Our true Arthur, when 

him leave he learns. 

The banquet, and concourse of Will well allow my pretext, as for 

knights and kings. gain 



302 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Of purer glor}^' " 



Then replied the King; 
*' Far lovelier in our Lancelot had it 

been, 
In lieu of idly dallying with the truth, 
To have trusted me as he hath trusted 

thee. 
Surely his King and most familiar 

friend 
Might vvell have kept his secret. 

True, indeed, 
Albeit I know my knights fantastical. 
So fine a fear in our large Lancelot 
Must needs have moved my laughter: 

now remains 
But little cause for laughter: his own 

kin — 
111 news, my Queen, for all who love 

him, this! — 
His kith and kin, not knowing, set 

upon him ; 
So that he went sore wounded from 

the field: 
Yet good news, too: for goodly hopes 

are mine 
That Lancelot is no more a lonely 

heart. 
He wore, against his wont, upon his 

helm 
A sleeve of scarlet, broider'd with 

great pearls, 
Some gentle maiden's gift." 

" Yea, lord," she said, 
" Thy hopes are mine," and saying 

that, she choked. 
And sharply turn'd about to hide her 

face, 
Past to her chamber, and there flung 

herself 
Down on the great King's couch, and 

writhed upon it. 
And clench'd her fingers till they bit 

the palm. 
And shriek'd out, " Traitor " to the 

unhearing wall, 



Then flash'd into wild tears, and rose 

again. 
And moved about her palace, proud 

and pale. 



Gawain the while thro' all the 

region round 
Rode with his diamond, wearied of 

the quest, 
Touch'd at all points, except the 

poplar grove. 
And came at last, tho' late, to Asto- 

lat: 
Whom glittering in enamel'd arms 

the maid 
Glanced at, and cried, " What news 

from Camelot, lord ? 
What of the knight with the red 

sleeve? " " He won." 
" I knew it," she said. " But parted 

from the jousts 
Hurt in the side," whereat she caught 

her breath ; 
Thro' her own side she felt the sharp 

lance go; 
Thereon she smote her hand : well- 
nigh she swoon 'd : 
And, while he gazed wonderingly at 

her, came 
The Lord of Astolat out, to whom 

the Prince 
Reported who he was, and on what 

quest 
Sent, that he bore the prize and could 

not find 
The victor, but had ridd'n a random 

round 
To seek him, and had wearied of the 

search. 
To whom the Lord of Astolat, " Bide 

with us. 
And ride no more at random, noble 

Prince ! 
Here was the knight, and here he left 

a shield ; 
This will he send or come for; 

furthermore 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 303 

Our son is with him; we shall hear And when the shield was brought^ 

anon ^"d Gawain saw 

Needs must we hear." To this the Sir Lancelot's azure lions, crown'd 

courteous Prince with gold, 

Accorded with his wonted courtesy, Ramp in the field, he smote his thigh. 

Courtesy with a touch of traitor in and mock'd: 

it " Right was the King! our Lancelot I 

And stay'd ; and cast his eyes on fair that true man ! " 

£iaine: "And right was I," she answer'd 

Where could be found face daintier? merrily, "I, 

then her shape Who dream'd my knight the greatest 

From forehead down to foot, perfect knight of all." 

again " And if / dream'd," said Gawain, 

From foot to forehead exquisitely " that you love 

turn'd: This greatest knight, j^our pardon! 

"Well — if I bide, lo! this wild lo, ye know it! 

flower for me! " Speak therefore: shall I waste myself 

And oft they met among the garden in vain?" 

ye^^s Full simple was her answer, " What 

And there he set himself to play upon know I ? 

j^gj. My brethren have been all my fellow- 

With sallying wit, free flashes from a ship ; 

}^gight And I, when often they have talk'd of 

Above her, graces of the court, and love, 

songs, Wish'd it had been my mother, for 

Sighs, and slow smiles, and golden they talk'd, 

eloquence Meseem'd, of what they knew not; 

And amorous adulation, till the maid so myself — 

Rebell'd against it, saying to him, I know not if I know what true love 

" Prince, is, 

O loyal nephew of our noble King, But if I know, then, if I love not 

Why ask you not to see the shield he him, 

left I know there is none other I can 

Whence you might learn his name? love." 

Why slight your King, " Yea, by God's death," said he, " ye 

And lose the quest he sent you on, love him well, 

and prove But would not, knew ye what all 

No surer than our falcon yesterday, others know. 

Who lost the hern we slipt her at. And whom he loves." " So be it," 

and went cried Elaine, 

To all the winds? " " Nay, by mine And lifted her fair face and moved 

head," said he, away: 

" I lose it, as we lose the lark in But he pursued her, calling, " Stay a 

heaven, little ! 

O damsel, in the light of your blue One golden minute's grace! he wore 

eyes; your sleeve: 

But an ye will it let me see the Would he break faith with one I may 

shield." not name? 



304 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Must our true man change like a leaf 

at last? 
Nay — like enow : why then, far be it 

from me 
To cross our mighty Lancelot in his 

loves ! 
And, damsel, for I deem you know 

full well 
Where your great knight is hidden, 

let me leave 
My quest with you ; the diamond 

also: here! 
For if you love, it will be sweet to 

give it; 
And if he love, it will be sweet to 

have it 
From your own hand ; and whether 

he love or not, 
A diamond is a diamond. Fare you 

well 
A thousand times ! — a thousand 

times farewell ! 
Yet, if he love, and his love hold, we 

two 
May meet at court hereafter: there, I 

think, 
So ye will learn the courtesies of the 

court. 
We two shall know each other." 

Then he gave, 
And slightly kiss'd the hand to which 

he gave, 
The diamond, and all wearied of the 

quest 
Leapt on his horse, and caroling as 

he went 
A true-love ballad, lightly rode away. 

Thence to the court he past; there 

told the King 
What the King knew, " Sir Lancelot 

IS the knight." 
And added, " Sire, my liege, so much 

I learnt; 
But fail'd to find him tho' I rode all 

round 
The region : but I lighted on the maid 



Whose sleeve he wore ; she loves him ; 
and to her. 

Deeming our courtesy is the truest 
law, 

I gave the diamond: she will render 
it; 

For by mine head she knows his hid- 
ing-place." 

The seldom-frowning King frown'd, 
and replied, 

" Too courteous truly ! ye shall go no 
more 

On quest of mine, seeing that ye for- 
get 

Obedience is the courtesy due to 
kings." 

He spake and parted. Wroth, but 

all in awe. 
For twenty strokes of the blood, with- 
out a word, 
Linger'd that other, staring after 

him ; 
Then shook his hair, strode off, and 

buzz'd abroad 
About the maid of Astolat, and her 

love. 
All ears were prick'd at once, all 

tongues were loosed. 
" The maid of Astolat loves Sir 

Lancelot, 
Sir Lancelot loves the maid of Asto- 
lat." 
Some read the King's face, some the 

Queen's, and all 
Had marvel what the maid might be, 

but most 
Predoom'd her as unworthy. One 

old dame 
Came suddenly on the Queen with the 

sharp news. 
She, that had heard the noise of it 

before, 
But sorrowing Lancelot should have 

stoop'd so low, 
Marr'd her friend's aim with pale 

tranquillity. 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 305 

So ran the tale like fire about the " And of that other, for I needs must 

court, hence 

Fire in dry stubble a nine-daj's' won- And find that other, wheresoe'er he 

der flared: be, 

Till ev'n the knights at banquet twice And with mine own hand give his 

or thrice diamond to him, 

Forgot to drink to Lancelot and the Lest I be found as faithless in the 

Queen, quest 

And pledging Lancelot and the lily As yon proud Prince who left the 

maid quest to me. 

Smiled at each other, while the Sweet father, I behold him in my 

Queen, who sat dreams 

With lips severely placid, felt the Gaunt as it were the skeleton of 

knot himself, 
Climb in her throat, and with her feet Death-pale, for lack of gentle maid- 
unseen en's aid. 
Crush'd the wild passion out against The gentler-born the maiden, the 

the floor more bound. 

Beneath the banquet, where the meats My father, to be sweet and serviceable 

became To noble knights in sickness, as ye 

As wormwood, and she hated all who know 

pledged. When these have worn their tokens: 

let me hence 
I pray you." Then her father nod- 
But far away the maid in Astolat, ding said, 
Her guiltless rival, she that ever kept " Aye, aye, the diamond : wit ye well. 
The one-day-seen Sir Lancelot in her my child, 

heart, Right fain were I to learn this knight 

Crept to her father, while he mused were whole, 

alone. Being our greatest: yea, and you 

Sat on his knee, stroked his gray face must give it — 

and said, And sure I think this fruit is hung 

" Father, you call me wilful, and the too high 

fault For any mouth to gape for save a 

Is yours who let me have my will, and queen's — 

now, Nay, I mean nothing: so then, get 

Sweet father, will you let me lose my you gone, 

wits? " Being so very wilful you must go." 
" Nay," said he, " surely." " Where- 
fore, let me hence," Lightly, her suit allow'd, she slipt 
She answer'd, " and find out our dear away, 

Layaine." And while she made her ready for her 

'■ Ye will not lose your wits for dear ride, 

Lavaine: Her father's latest word humm'd in 

Bide," answer'd he: "we needs must her ear, 

near anon " Being so very wilful you must go," 

Of him, and of that other." " Aye," And changed itself and echo'd in her 

she said, heart. 



3o6 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

" Being so very wilful you must die." Because he had not loosed it from his 

But she was happy enough and shook helm, 

it off, But meant once more perchance to 

As we shake off the bee that buzzes tourney in it. 

at us; And when they gain'd the cell where- 

And in her heart she answer'd it and in he slept, 

said, His battle-writhen arms and mighty 

" What matter, so I help him back to hands 

life ? " Lay naked on the wolfskin, and a 

Then far away with good Sir Torre dream 

for guide Of dragging down his enemy made 

Rode o'er the long backs of the bush- them move. 

less downs Then she that saw him lying unsleek, 

To Camelot, and before the city-gates unshorn. 

Came on her brother with a happy Gaunt as it were the skeleton of him- 

face self. 

Making a roan horse caper and curvet Utter'd a little tender dolorous cry. 

For pleasure all about a field of flow- The sound not wonted in a place so 

ers: still 

Whom when she saw, " Lavaine," Woke the sick knight, and while he 

she cried, " Lavaine, roll'd his eyes 

How fares my lord Sir Lancelot?" Yet blank from sleep, she started to 

He amazed, him, saying, 

"Torre and Elaine! why here? " Your prize the diamond sent you by 

Sir Lancelot! the King:" 

How know ye my lord's name is His eyes glisten'd : she fancied, " Is 

Lancelot?" it for me?" 

But when the maid had told him all And when the maid had told him all 

her tale, the tale 

Then turn'd Sir Torre, and being in Of King and Prince, the diamond 

his moods sent, the quest 

Left them, and under the strange- Assign'd to her not worthy of it, she 

statued gate, knelt 

Where Arthur's wars were render'd Full lowly by the corners of his bed, 

mystically, And laid the diamond in his open 

Past up the still rich city to his kin, hand. 

His own far blood, which dwelt at Her face was near, and as we kiss the 

Camelot ; child 

And her, Lavaine across the poplar That does the task assign'd, he kiss'd 

grove her face. 

Led to the caves: there first she saw At once she slipt like water to the 

the casque floor. 

Of Lancelot on the wall : her scarlet " Alas," he said, " your ride hath 

sleeve, wearied you. 

Tho' carved and cut, and half the Rest must you have." " No rest for 

pearls away, me," she said ; 

Stream'd from it still ; and in her " Nay, for near you, fair lord, I am at 

heart she laugh'd, rest." 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 307 

What might she mean by that? his Milder than any mother to a sick 

large black eyes, child, 

Yet larger thro' his leanness, dwelt And never woman yet, since man's 

upon her, first fall. 

Till all her heart's sad secret blazed Did kindlier unto man, but her deep 

itself love 

In the heart's colors on her simple Upbore her; till the hermit, skill'd in 

face ; all 

And Lancelot look'd and was per- The simples and the science of that 

plext in mind, time, 

And being weak in body said no Told him that her fine care had saved 

more; his life. 

But did not love the color; woman's And the sick man forgot her simple 

love, blush. 

Save one, he not regarded, and so Would call her friend and sister, 

turn'd sweet Elaine, 
Sighing, and feign'd a sleep until he Would listen for her coming and re- 
slept, gret 

Her parting step, and held her 

Then rose Elaine and glided thro' tenderly, 

the fields, And loved her with all love except 

And past beneath the weirdly-sculp- the love 

tured gates Of man and woman when they love 

Far up the dim rich city to her kin ; their best, 

There bode the night: but woke with Closest and sweetest, and had died 

dawn, and past the death 

Down thro' the dim rich city to the In any knightly fashion for her sake. 

fields. And peradventure had he seen her 

Thence to the cave: so day by day first 

she past She might have made this and that 

In either twilight ghost-like to and other world 

fro Another world for the sick man ; but 

Gliding, and every day she tended now 

him. The shackles of an old love straiten'd 

And likewise many a night: and him, 

Lancelot His honor rooted in dishonor stood. 

Would, tho' he call'd his wound a And faith unfaithful kept him falsely 

little hurt true. 
Whereof he should be quickly whole, 

at times 

Brain-feverous in his heat and agony, Yet the great knight in his mid- 

seem sickness made 
Uncourteous, even he: but the meek Full many a holy vow and pure re- 
maid solve. 
Sweetly forbore him ever, being to These, as but born of sickness, could 

him not live : 

Meeker than any child to a rough For when the blood ran lustier in 

nurse, him again. 



3o8 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Full often the bright Image of one 

face, 
Making a treacherous quiet in his 

heart, 
Dispersed his resolution like a cloud. 
Then if the maiden, while that 

ghostly grace 
Beam'd on his fancy, spoke, he an- 

swer'd not, 
Or short and coldly, and she knew 

right well 
What the rough sickness meant, but 

what this meant 
She knew not, and the sorrow dimm'd 

her sight. 
And drave her ere her time across the 

fields 
Far into the rich city, where alone 
She murmur'd, " Vain, in vain : it can- 
not be. 
He will not love me: how then? 

must I die? " 
Then as a little helpless innocent 

bird, 
That has but one plain passage of few- 
notes. 
Will sing the simple passage o'er and 

o'er 
For all an April morning, till the ear 
Wearies to hear it, so the simple 

maid 
Went half the night repeating, 

"Must I die?" 
And now to right she turn'd, and now 

to left, 
And found no ease in turning or in 

rest; 
And " Him or death," she mutter'd, 

" death or him," 
Again and like a burthen, " Him or 

death." 



But when Sir Lancelot's deadly 

hurt was whole, 
To Astolat returning rode the three. 
There morn by morn, arraying her 

sweet self 



In that wherein she deem'd she look'd 

her best. 
She came before Sir Lancelot, for she 

thought 
"If I be loved, these are my festal 

robes. 
If not, the victim's flowers before he 

fall." 
And Lancelot ever prest upon the 

maid 
That she should ask some goodly gift 

of him 
For her own self or hers; "and do 

not shun 
To speak the wish most near to your 

true heart ; 
Such service have ye done me, that I 

make 
My will of yours, and Prince and 

Lord am I 
In mine own land, and what I will I 

can. 
Then like a ghost she lifted up her 

face. 
But like a ghost without the power to 

speak. 
And Lancelot saw that she withheld 

her wish. 
And bode among them yet a little 

space 
Till he should learn it ; and one morn 

it chanced 
He found her in among the garden 

yews. 
And said, " Delay no longer, speak 

your wish, 
Seeing I go to-day:" then out she 

brake : 
" Going? and we shall never see you 

more. 
And I must die for want of one bold 

word." 
" Speak: that I live to hear," he said, 

" is yours." 
Then suddenly and passionately she 

spoke : 
" I have gone mad. I love you: let 

me die." 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 



309 



"" Ah, sister," answer'd Lancelot, Beyond mine old belief in woman- 

" what is this?" hood, 

And innocently extending her white More specially should your good 

arms, knight be poor, 

** Your love," she said, " your love — Endow you with broad land and terri- 

to be your wife." tory 

And Lancelot answer'd, " Had I Even to the half my realm beyond the 

chosen to wed, seas, 

I had been wedded earlier, sweet So that would make you happy: fur- 
Elaine : thermore. 

But now there never will be wife of Ev'n to the death, as tho' ye were my 

mine." blood, 

■" No, no," she cried, " I care not to In all your quarrels will I be your 

be wife, knight. 

But to be with you still, to see your This will I do, dear damsel, for your 

face, sake. 

To serve you, and to follow you thro' And more than this I cannot." 

the world." 



And Lancelot answer'd, " Nay, the 

world, the world, 
All ear and eye, with such a stupid 

heart 
To interpret ear and eye, and such a 

tongue 
To blare its own interpretation — 

nay. 
Full ill then should I quit your 

brother's love. 
And your good father's kindness." 

And she said, 
" Not to be with you, not to see your 

face — 
Alas for me then, my good days are 

done." 
" Nay, noble maid," he answer'd, 

" ten times nay! 
This is not love: but love's first flash 

in youth, 
Most common : yea, I know it of 

mine own self: 
And you yourself will smile at your 

own self 



While he spoke 
She neither blush'd nor shook, but 

deathly-pale 
Stood grasping what was nearest, then 

replied : 
" Of all this will I nothing; " and so 

fell. 
And thus they bore her swooning to 

her tower. 

Then spake, to whom thro' those 
black walls of yew 

Their talk had pierced, her father: 
" Aye, a flash, 

I fear me, that will strike my blossom 
dead. 

Too courteous are ye, fair Lord 
Lancelot. 

I pray you, use some rough discour- 
tesy 

To blunt or break her passion." 

Lancelot said. 

Hereafter, when you yield your flower " That were against me : what I can I 

of life will ; " 

To one more fitly yours, not thrice And there that day remain'd, and to- 

your age: ward even 

And then will I, for true you are and Sent for his shield: full meekly rose 

sweet the maid. 



3IO 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Stript off the case, and gave the naked 

shield ; 
Then, when she heard his horse upon 

the stones. 
Unclasping flung the casement back, 

and look'd 
Down on his helm, from which her 

sleeve had gone. 
And Lancelot knew the little clinking 

sound ,- 
And she by tact of love was well 

aware 
That Lancelot knew that she was 

looking at him. 
And yet he glanced not up, nor 

waved his hand. 
Nor bade farewell, but sadly rode 

away. 
This was the one discourtesy that he 

used. 



So in her tower alone the maiden 
sat: 

His very shield was gone; only the 
case, 

Her own poor work, her empty labor, 
left. 

But still she heard him, still his pic- 
ture form'd 

And grew between her and the pic- 
tured wall. 

Then came her father, saying in low 
tones, 

" Have comfort," whom she greeted 
quietly. 

Then came her brethren saying, 
" Peace to thee. 

Sweet sister," whom she answer'd 
with all calm. 

But when they left her to herself 
again. 

Death, like a friend's voice from a dis- 
tant field 

Approaching thro' the darkness, 
call'd ; the owls 

Wailing had power upon her, and 
she mixt 



Her fancies with the sallow-rifted 

glooms 
Of evening, and the moanings of the 

wind. 

And in those days she made a little 

song. 
And call'd her song, " The Song of 

Love and Death," 
And sang it: sweetly could she make 

and sing. 

" Sweet is true love tho' given in 

vain, in vain ; 
And sweet is death who puts an end 

to pain : 
I know not which is sweeter, no, not 

L 

"Love, art tnou sweet? then bit- 
ter death must be: 

Love, thou art bitter; sweet is death 
to me. 

O, Love, if death be sweeter, let me 
die. 

" Sweet love, that seems not made 

to fade away, 
Sweet death, that seems to make us 

loveless clay, 
I know not which is sweeter, no, not 

I. 

" I fain would follow love, if that 

could be; 
I needs must follow death, who calls 

for me; 
Call and I follow, I follow! let me 

die." 

High with the last line scaled her 
voice, and this. 

All in a fiery dawning wild with 
wind 

That shook her tower, the brothers 
heard, and thought 

With shuddering, " Hark the Phan- 
tom of the house 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 



311 



That ever shrieks before a death," And then I said, ' Now shall I have 

and call'd my will : ' 

The father, and all three in hurry And there I woke, but still the wish 

and fear remain'd. 

Ran to her, and lo! the blood-red So let me hence that I may pass at 

light of dawn last 

Flared on her face, she shrilling, Beyond the poplar and far up the 



" Let me die! " 



As when we dwell upon a word 

we know. 
Repeating, till the word we know so 

well 
Becomes a wonder, and we know not 

why. 
So dwelt the father on her face, and 

thought 
"Is this Elaine?" till back the 

maiden fell, 
Then gave a languid hand to each, 

and lay, 
Speaking a still good-morrow with 

her eyes. 
At last she said, " Sweet brothers, 

yesternight 
I seem'd a curious little maid again, 



flood. 

Until I find the palace of the King. 

There will I enter in among them 
all, 

And no man there will dare to mock 
at me; 

But there the fine Gawain will won- 
der at me. 

And there the great Sir Lancelot 
muse at me ; 

Gawain, who bade a thousand fare- 
wells to me, 

Lancelot, who coldly went, nor bade 
me one: 

And there the King will know me 
and my love, 

And there the Queen herself will pity 
me, 

And all the gentle court will welcome 
me, 



As happy as when we dwelt among And after my long voyage I shall 

the woods, rest! " 

And when ye used to take me with 



" Peace," said her father, " O my 

child, ye seem 
Light-headed, for what force is yours 

to go 
So far, being sick? and wherefore 

would ye look 
On this proud fellow again, who 

scorns us all?" 

Then the rough Torre began to 
heave and move. 
Beyond it, and far up the shining And bluster into stormy sobs and 

flood say. 

Until we found the palace of the " I never loved him : an I meet with 

King. him, 

And yet ye would not ; but this night I care not howsoever great he be,^ 

I dream'd Then will I strike at him and strike 

That I was all alone upon the flood, him down. 



the flood 
Up the great river in the boatman's 

boat. 
Only ye would not pass beyond the 

cape 
That has the poplar on it: there ye 

fixt 
Your limit, oft returning with the 

tide. 
And yet I cried because ye would not 

pass 



-512 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Give me good fortune, I will strike 

him dead, 
For this discomfort he hath done the 

house." 

To whom the gentle sister made 

reply, 
" Fret not yourself, dear brother, nor 

be wroth, 
Seeing it is no more Sir Lancelot's 

fault 
Not to love me, than it is mine to 

love 
Him of all men who seems to me the 

highest." 

"Highest?" the father answer'd, 

echoing " highest? " 
(He meant to break the passion in 

her) " nay. 
Daughter, I know not what you call 

the highest; 
But this I know, for all the people 

know it, 
He loves the Queen, and in an open 

shame : 
And she returns his love in open 

shame ; 
If this be high, what is it to be 

low?" 

Then spake the lily maid of Asto- 

lat: 
" Sweet father, all too faint and sick 

am I 
For anger: these are slanders: never 

yet 
Was noble man but made ignoble 

talk. 
He makes no friend who never made 

a foe. 
But now it is my glory to have loved 
One peerless, without stain: so let 

me pass. 
My father, howsoe'er I seem to you, 
Not all unhappy, having loved God's 

best 



And greatest, tho' my love had no 

return : 
Yet, seeing you desire your child to 

live, 
Thanks, but you work against your 

own desire; 
For if I could believe the things you 

say 
I should but die the sooner; where- 
fore cease. 
Sweet father, and bid call the ghostly 

man 
Hither, and let me shrive me clean,^ 

and die." 



So when the ghostly man had 

come and gone. 
She with a face, bright as for sin 

forgiven, 
Besought Lavaine to write as she 

devised 
A letter, word for word ; and when 

he ask'd, 
" Is it for Lancelot, is it for my dear 

lord? 
Then will I bear it gladly ; " she 

replied, 
" For Lancelot and the Queen and 

all the world, 
But I mj^self must bear it." Then 

he wrote 
The letter she devised ; which being 

writ 
And folded, " O sweet father, tender 

and true, 
Deny me not," she said — " ye never 

yet 
Denied my fancies — this, however 

strange, 
My latest: lay the letter in my hand 
A little ere I die, and close the hand 
Upon it ; I shall guard it even in 

death. 
And when the heat is gone from out 

my heart. 
Then take the little bed on which I 

died 




AND THE DEAD, 
OARED BY THE DUMB, WENT UPWARD WITH THE FLOOD" 

—Page 313 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 313 

For Lancelot's love, and deck it like Pall'd all its length in blackest 
the Queen's samite, lay. 

For richness, and me also like the There sat the lifelong creature of the 
Queen house, 

In all I have of rich, and lay me on Loyal, the dumb old servitor, on 
it. deck. 

And let there be prepared a chariot- Winking his eyes, and twisted all his, 
bier face. 

To take me to the river, and a barge So those two brethren from the 

Be ready on the river, clothed in chariot took 

black. And on the black decks laid her in 

I go in state to court, to meet the her bed, 

Queen. Set in her hand a lily, o'er her hung 

There surely I shall speak for mine The silken case with braided blazon- 
own self, ings, 

And none of you can speak for me so And kiss'd her quiet brows, and say- 
well, ing to her. 

And therefore let our dumb old man " Sister, farewell forever," and 
alone again, 

Go with me, he can steer and row, " Farewell, sweet sister," parted all 
and he in tears. 

Will guide me to that palace, to the Then rose the dumb old servitor, 
doors." and the dead, 

Oar'd by the dumb, went upward 

She ceased: her father promised: t i • i i i i i-i • i i r 

I In her right hand the lily, m her left 

whereupon r^^, , *= „ , , • , , • 

Qi u f 1 *u *. *i, J- he letter — all her bright hair 

She grew so cheerful that they . , ^ 

J 'J u J i-u streaming down — 

deem d her death a j n l i-i i i <■ 

ITT ^u • 4.U i .. 4.U 4.U -And all the coverlid was cloth of 

Was rather in the fantasy than the , , 

ki J gold 

blood. T^ "^ , . Ill ^e 

T> . ^ 1 • * J Drawn to her waist, and she herself 

rsut ten slow mornings past, and on ... ' 

th 1 i-h '" white 

Hr ..u 1 -J ..u 1 ..* • V, All but her face, and that clear-fea- 
er father laid the letter in her , , ' 

, J tured face 

A J 1 J *u 1, J •* J u Was lovely, for she did not seem as 

And closed the hand upon it, and she , , ■" 

J- J r^ ' dead. 

So that' day there was dole in Astolat. ^"^ ^^'' f''^' ^"'^ ^^>^ ^' *^^' '^'^ 
^ smiled. 

But when the next sun brake from 

underground, That day Sir Lancelot at the 

Then, those two brethren slowly palace craved 

with bent brows Audience of Guinevere, to give at 
Accompanying, the sad chariot-bier last 

Past like a shadow thro' the field. The price of half a realm, his costly 

that shone gift. 

Full-summer, to that stream where- Hard-won and hardly won with 

on the barge, bruise and blow, 



3H 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



With deaths of others, and almost 

his own, 
The nine-years- fought-for diamonds: 

for he saw- 
One of her house, and sent him to 

the Queen 
Bearing his wish, wliereto the Queen 

agreed 
With such and so unmoved a majesty 
She might have seem'd her statue, 

but that he. 
Low-drooping till he wellnigh kiss'd 

her feet 
For loyal awe, saw with a sidelong 

eye 
The shadow of some piece of pointed 

lace, 
In the Queen's shadow, vibrate on 

the walls, 
And parted, laughing In his courtly 

heart. 



All in an oriel on the summer side. 
Vine-clad, of Arthur's palace toward 

the stream, 
They met, and Lancelot kneeling ut- 

ter'd, " Queen, 
Lady, my liege, in whom I have my 

joy, 
Take, what I had not won except for 

you. 
These jew^els, and make me happy, 

making them 
An armlet for the roundest arm on 

earth, 
Or necklace for a neck to which the 

swan's 
Is tawnier than her cygnet's: these 

are words : 
Your beauty is your beauty, and I 

sin 
In speaking, yet O grant my worship 

of it 
Words, as we grant grief tears. 

Such sin in words 
Perchance, we both can pardon: but, 

my Queen, 



I hear of rumors flying thro' your 

court 
Our bond, as not the bond of man 

and wife, 
Should have in It an absoluter trust 
To make up that defect: let rumors 

be: 
When did not rumors fly? these, as 

I trust 
That you trust me in your own 

nobleness, 
I may not well believe that you 

believe." 

While thus he spoke, half turn'd 

away, the Queen 
Brake from the vast oriel-embower- 
ing vine 
Leaf after leaf, and tore, and cast 

them off. 
Till all the place whereon she stood 

was green ; 
Then, when he ceased, in one cold 

passive hand 
Received at once and laid aside the 

gems 
There on a table near her, and 

replied : 

" It may be, I am quicker of belief 
Than you believe me, Lancelot of 

the Lake. 
Our bond is not the bond of man 

and wife. 
This good is in it, whatso'er of ill. 
It can be broken easier. I for you 
This many a year have done despite 

and wrong 
To one whom ever in my heart of 

hearts 
I did acknowledge nobler. W^hat 

are these ? 
Diamonds for me! they had been 

thrice their worth 
Being your gift, had you not lost 

your own. 
To loyal hearts the value of all gifts 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 315 

Must vary as the giver's. Not for Close underneath his eyes, and right 

me ! across 

For her! for your new fancy. Only Where these had fallen, slowly past 

this the barge 

Grant me, I pray you : have your Whereon the lily maid of Astolat 

joys apart. Lay smiling, like a star in blackest 

I doubt not that however changed, night. 

you keep 

So much of what is graceful : and But the wild Queen, who saw not, 

myself burst away 

Would shun to break those bounds of To weep and wail in secret ; and the 

courtesy barge, 

In which as Arthur's Queen I move On to the palace-doorway sliding, 

and rule: paused. 

So cannot speak my mind. An end There two stood arm'd, and kept the 

to this! door; to whom, 

A strange one! yet I take it with All up the marble stair, tier over 

Amen. tier. 

So pray you, add my diamonds to Were added mouths that gaped, and 

her pearls; eyes that ask'd. 

Deck her with these; tell her, she "What is it?" but that oarsman's 

shines me down: haggard face. 

An armlet for an arm to which the As hard and still as is the face that 

Queen's men 

Is haggard, or a necklace for a neck Shape to their fancy's eye from 

O as much fairer — as a faith once broken rocks 

fair On some cliff-side, appall'd them, 

Was richer than these diamonds — and they said, 

hers not mine — "He is enchanted, cannot speak — 

Nay, by the mother of our Lord him- and she, 

self, Look how she sleeps — the Fairy 

Or hers or mine, mine now to work Queen, so fair! 

my will Yea, but how pale! what are they? 

She shall not have them," flesh and blood? 

Or come to take the King to Fairy- 
Saying which she seized, land ? 
And, thro' the casement standing For some do hold our Arthur cannot 

wide for heat, die. 

Flung them, and down they flash'd, But that he passes into Fairyland." 

and smote the stream. 

Then from the smitten surface While thus they babbled of the 

flash'd, as it were. King, the King 

Diamonds to meet them, and they Came girt with knights: then turn'd 

past away. the tongueless man 

Then while Sir Lancelot leant, in From the half-face to the full eye, 

half disdain and rose 

At love, life, all things, on the And pointed to the damsel^ and the 

window ledge, doors. 



3i6 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



So Arthur bade the meek Sir 

Percivale 
And pure Sir Galahad to uplift the 

maid ; 
And reverently they bore her into 

hall. 
Then came the fine Gawain and 

wonder'd at her, 
And Lancelot later came and mused 

at her, 
And last the Queen herself, and 

pitied her: 
But Arthur spied the letter in her 

hand, 
Stoopt, took, brake seal, and read it; 

this was all : 

" Most noble lord. Sir Lancelot of 

the Lake, 
I, sometime call'd the maid of Asto- 

lat. 
Come, for you left me taking no 

farewell. 
Hither, to take my last farewell of 

you. 
I loved you, and my love had no 

return. 
And therefore my true love has been 

my death. 
And therefore to our Lady Guine- 
vere, 
And to all other ladies, I make 

moan: 
Pray for my soul, and yield me 

burial. 
Pray for my soul thou, too. Sir 

Lancelot, 
As thou art a knight peerless." 

Thus he read; 
And ever in the reading, lords and 

dames 
Wept, looking often from his face 

who read 
To hers which lay so silent, and at 

times, 
So touch'd were they, half-thinking 

that her lips, 



Who had devised the letter, moved 
again. 

Then freely spoke Sir Lancelot to 
them all; 

" My lord liege Arthur, and all ye 
that hear. 

Know that for this most gentle maid- 
en's death 

Right heavy am I ; for good she was 
and true. 

But loved me with a love beyond all 
love 

In women, whomsoever I have 
known. 

Yet to be loved makes not to love 
again ; 

Not at my years, however it hold in 
youth. 

I swear by truth and knighthood 
that I gave 

No cause, not willingly, for such a 
love: 

To this I call my friends in testi- 
mony, 

Her brethren, and her father, who 
himself 

Besought me to be plain and blunt, 
and use. 

To break her passion, some discour- 
tesy 

Against my nature: what I could, I 
did. 

I left her and I bade her no farewell ; 

Tho' had I dreamt the damsel would 
have died, 

I might have put my wits to some 
rough use. 

And help'd her from herself." 

Then said the Queen 
(Sea was her wrath, yet working 

after storm) 
" Ye might at least have done her so 

much grace, 
Fair lord, as would have help'd her 

from her death." 



LANCELOT AND ELAINE 317 

He raised his head, their eyes met And mass, and rolling music, like a 

and hers fell, queen. 

He adding, And when the knights had laid her 

" Queen, she would not be content comely head 

Save that I wedded her, which could Low in the dust of half-forgotten 

not be. kings, 

Then might she follow me thro' the Then Arthur spake among them, 

world, she ask'd ; " Let her tomb 
It could not be. I told her that her Be costly, and her image there- 
love upon. 
Was but the flash of youth, would And let the shield of Lancelot at 

darken down her feet 

To rise hereafter in a stiller flame Be carven, and her lily in her hand. 

Toward one more worthy of her — And let the story of her dolorous 

then would I, voyage 

More specially were he, she wedded. For all true hearts be blazon'd on her 

poor, tomb 

Estate them with large land and ter- In letters gold and azure!" which 

ritory was wrought 

In mine own realm beyond the nar- Thereafter; but when now the lords 

row seas, and dames 

To keep them in all joyance: more And people, from the high door 

than this streaming, brake 

I could not; this she would not, and Disorderly, as homeward each, the 

she died," Queen, 

Who mark'd Sir Lancelot where he 

He pausing, Arthur answer'd, ^ "^^^'^^ ^P^^]' . ^,, . 

« o my knight, ^^T< "'^'■', ^"^ ''^^ ^ •" P^'''"g' 

It will be to thy worship, as my ^ . ^^"^elot, _ . , . 

j^j^- [^j -borgive me; mme was jealousy m 

And mine, as head of all our Table tt " > i • i i • 

j^Q^jj^ 1 -Tie answer d with his eyes upon the 

To see that she be buried worship- « t^, ^ . ,' , 

£11 )) i nat IS love s curse ; pass on, my 

Queen, forgiven." 
But Arthur, who beheld his cloudy 

So toward that shrine which then brows, 

in all the realm _ Approach'd him, and with full affec- 

Was richest, Arthur leading, slowly tion said, 

went 

The marshal'd Order of their Table " Lancelot, my Lancelot, thou in 

Round, whom I have 

And Lancelot sad beyond his wont, Most joy and most affiance, for I 

to see know 

The maiden buried, not as one un- What thou hast been in battle by my 

known, side, 

Nor meanly, but with gorgeous ob- And many a time have watch'd thee 

sequies, it the tilt 



3i8 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Strike down the lusty and long prac- What should be best, if not so pure a 

tised knight, love 

And let the younger and unskill'd go Clothed in so pure a loveliness? yet 

by thee 

To win his honor and to make his She fail'd to bind, tho' being, as I 

name, think, 

And loved thy courtesies and thee, a Unbound as yet, and gentle, as I 

man know." 
Made to be loved ; but now I would 

to God, 

Seeing the homeless trouble in thine And Lancelot answer'd nothing, 

eyes, but he went. 

Thou couldst have loved this maiden. And at the inrunning of a little 

shaped, it seems, brook 

By God for thee alone, and from Sat by the river in a cove, and 

her face, watch'd 

If one may judge the living by the The high reed wave, and lifted up 

dead, his eyes 

Delicately pure and marvelously And saw the barge that brought her 

fair, moving down. 

Who might have brought thee, now Far-off, a blot upon the stream, and 

a lonely man said 

Wifeless and heirless, noble issue, Low in himself, " Ah, simple heart 

sons and sweet. 

Born to the glory of thy name and Ye loved me, damsel, surely with a 

fame, love 

My knight, the great Sir Lancelot of Far tenderer than my Queen's. 

the Lake." Pray for thy soul? 

Aye, that will I. Farewell, too — 

Then answer'd Lancelot, " Fair now at last — 

she was, my King, Farewell, fair lily. ' Jealousy in 

Pure, as you ever wish your knights love?' 

to be. Not rather dead love's harsh heir, 

To doubt her fairness were to want jealous pride? 

an eye, Queen, if I grant the jealousy as of 

To doubt her pureness were to want love, 

a heart — May not your crescent fear for name 

Yea, to be loved, if what is worthy and fame 

love Speak, as it waxes, of a love that 

Could bind him, but free love will wanes? 

not be bound." Why did the King dwell on my 

name to me? 

" Free We, so bound, were freest," Mine own name shames me, seeming 

said the King. a reproach, 

"Let love be free; free love is for Lancelot, whom the Lady of the 

the best: Lake 

And, after heaven, on our dull side Caught from his mother's arms — 

of death, the wondrous one 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



319 



Who passes thro' the vision of the Not knowing he should die a holy 

night — man. 

She chanted snatches of mysterious 

hymns 
Heard on the winding waters, eve THE HOLY GRAIL 

and morn 

She kiss'd me saying, " Thou art From noiseful arms, and acts of 

fair, my child, prowess done 

As a king's son," and often in her In tournament or tilt. Sir Percivale, 

arms Whom Arthur and his knighthood 
She bare me, pacing on the dusky call'd The Pure, 

mere. Had pass'd into the silent life of 
Would she had drown'd me in it, prayer, 

where'er it be! Praise, fast and alms; and leaving for 
For what am I ? what profits me my the cowl 

name The helmet in an abbey far away 

Of greatest knight? I fought for it, From Camelot, there, and not long 

and have it: after, died. 

Pleasure to have it, none ; to lose it. 



pam ; 
Now grown a part of me: but what 

use in it? 
To make men worse by making my 

sin known ? 
Or sin seem less, the sinner seeming 

great ? 
Alas, for Arthur's greatest knight, a 

man 
Not after Arthur's heart! I needs 

must break 
These bonds that so defame me: not 

without 
She wills it: would I, if she will'd it? 

nay, 
Who knows? but if I would not, 

then may God, 
I pray him, send a sudden Angel 

down 
To seize me by the hair and bear me 

far, 
And fling me deep in that forgotten 

mere. 



And one, a fellow-monk among 

the rest, 
Ambrosius, loved him much beyond 

the rest. 
And honor'd him, and wrought into 

his heart 
A way by love that waken'd love 

within. 
To answer that which came: and as 

they sat 
Beneath a world-old yew-tree, dark- 
ening half 
The cloisters, on a gustful April 

morn 
That puff'd the swaying branches 

into smoke 
Above them, ere the summer when 

he died, 
The monk Ambrosius question'd 

Percivale : 

" O brother, I have seen this yew- 
tree smoke, 



Among the tumbled fragments of the Spring after spring, for half a hun- 
hills." dred years: 

For never have I known the world 
without. 
So groan'd Sir Lancelot in re- Nor ever stray'd beyond the pale: 
remorseful pain, but thee. 



320 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



When first thou earnest — such a 

courtesy 
Spake thro' the limbs and in the 

voice — I knew 
For one of those who eat in Arthur's 

hall ; 
For good ye are and bad, and like to 

coins, 
Some true, some light, but every one 

of you 
Stamp'd with the image of the King; 

and now 
Tell mc, what drove thee from the 

Table Round, 
My brother? was it earthly passion 

crost?" 

" N^y," said the knight ; " for no 

such passion mine. 
But the sweet vision of the Holy 

Grail 
Drove me from all vain glories, rival- 
ries, 
And earthly heats that spring and 

sparkle out 
Among us in the jousts, while women 

watch 
Who wins, who falls ; and waste the 

spiritual strength 
Within us, better offer'd up to 

Heaven." 

To whom the monk: "The Holy 

Grail! — I trust 
We are green in Heaven's eyes; but 

here too much 
We molder — as to things without I 

mean — 
Yet one of your own knights, a guest 

of ours, 
Told us of this in our refectory. 
But spake with such a sadness and so 

low 
We heard not half of what he said. 

What is it? 
The phantom of a cup that comes 

and goes? " 



"Nay, monk! what phantom?" 

answer'd Percivale. 
" The cup, the cup itself, from which 

our Lord 
Drank at the last sad supper with his 

own. 
This, from the blessed land of Aro- 

mat — 
After the day of darkness, when the 

dead 
Went wandering o'er Moriah — the 

good saint 
Arimatha^an Joseph, journeying 

brought 
To Glastonbury, where the winter 

thorn 
Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of 

our Lord. 
And there awhile it bode; and if a 

man 
Could touch or see it, he was heal'd 

at once. 
By faith, of all his ills. But then the 

times 
Grew to such evil that the holy cup 
Was caught away to Heaven, and 

disappear'd." 



To whom the monk : " From our 
old books I know 

That Joseph came of old to Glaston- 
bury, 

And there the heathen Prince, Arvi- 
ragus, 

Gave him an isle of marsh whereon 
to build ; 

And there he built with wattles from 
the marsh 

A little lonely church in days of 
yore, 

For so they say, these books of ours, 
but seem 

Mute of this miracle, far as I have 
read. 

But who first saw the holy thing to- 
day? " 



THE HOLY GRAIL 321 

'* A woman," ansvver'd Percivale, That now the Holy Grail would 

" a nun, come again ; 

And one no further off in blood from But sin broke out. Ah, Christ, that 

me it would come. 

Than sister; and if ever holy maid And heal the world of all their 

With knees of adoration wore the wickedness! 

stone, ' O Father ! ' asked the maiden, 

A holy maid ; tho' never maiden * might it come 

glow'd, To me by prayer and fasting? ' 

But that was in her earlier maiden- ' Nay,' said he, 

hood, ' I know not, for thy heart is pure 

With such a fervent flame of human as snow.' 

love. And so she pray'd and fasted, till 

Which being rudely blunted, the sun 

glanced and shot Shone, and the wind blew, thro' her, 

Only to holy things ; to prayer and and I thought 

praise She might have risen and floated 

She gave herself, to fast and alms. when I saw her. 

And yet. 

Nun as she was, the scandal of the " For on a day she sent to speak 

Court, with me. 

Sin against Arthur and the Table And when she came to speak, behold 

Round, her eyes 

And the strange sound of an adulter- Beyond my knowing of them, beauti- 

ous race, ful, 

Across the iron grating of her cell Beyond all knowing of them, won- 

Beat, and she pray'd and fasted all derful, 

the more. Beautiful in the light of holiness. 

And ' O my brother Percivale,' she 
said, 

" And he to whom she told her * Sweet brother, I have seen the 

sins, or what Holy Grail: 

Her all but utter whiteness held for For, waked at dead of night, I 

sin, heard a sound 

A man well-nigh a hundred winters As of a silver horn from o'er the 

old, hills 

Spake often with her of the Holy Blown, and I thought, " It is not 

Grail, Arthur's use 

A legend handed down thro' five or To hunt by moonlight;" and the 

six, slender sound 

And each of these a hundred winters As from a distance beyond distance 

old, grew 

From our Lord's time. And when Coming upon me — O never harp 

King Arthur made nor horn. 

His Table Round, and all men's Nor aught we blow with breath, or 

hearts became touch with hand. 

Clean for a season, surely he had Was like that music as it came; and 

thought then 



322 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Stream'd thro' my cell a cold and My sister's vision, fill'd me with 

silver beam, amaze ; 

And down the long beam stole the His eyes became so like her own. 

Holy Grail, they seem'd 

Rose-red with beatings in it, as if Hers, and himself her brother more 

alive, than I. 

Till all the white walls of my cell 

were dyed "Sister or brother none had he; 

With rosy colors leaping on the wall: but some 

And then the music faded, and the Call'd him a son of Lancelot, and 

Grail some said 

Past, and the beam decay'd, and from Begotten by enchantment — chatter- 

the walls ers they, 

The rosy quiverings died into the Like birds of passage piping up and 

night. down, 

So now the Holy Thing is here again That gape for flies — we know not 
Among us, brother, fast thou too and whence they come; 

pray, For when was Lancelot wander- 
And tell thy brother knights to fast ingly lewd? 

and pray, 
That so perchance the vision may be " But she, the wan sweet maiden^ 

seen shore away 

By thee and those, and all the world Clean from her forehead all that 

be heal'd.' wealth of hair 

Which made a silken mat-work for 

"Then leaving the pale nun, I ., .^'i,- u i-. ju j 

, f 1 • And out of this she plaited broad 
spake of this , , 

To all men ; and myself fasted and a ^ jui. j -u 

, J -^ A strong sword-belt, and wove with 

At J silver thread 

Alwaj's, and many among us many « , . • ^u u u 

■' ' , ■' And crimson in the belt a strange 

a week i • " 

Fasted and pray'd even to the utter- « . ' -i vu- -i 

^ ■' A crimson grail within a silver 
most, 1 

Expectant of the wonder that would ., \\^ u • \.^ u i-u* j 

^ , And saw the bright boy-knight, and 

bound it on him, 

Saying, ' Aly knight, my love, my 

" And one there was among us, knight of heaven, 

ever moved O thou, my love, whose love is one 

Among us in white armor, Galahad. with mine, 

' God make thee good as thou art I, maiden, round thee, maiden, bind 

beautiful,' my belt. 

Said Arthur, when he dubb'd him Go forth, for thou shalt see what I 

knight; and none, have seen, 

In so young youth, was ever made a And break thro' all, till one will 

knight crown thee king 

Till Galahad; and this Galahad, Far in the spiritual city:' and as she 

when he heard spake 




AND DOWN THE LONG BEAM STOLE THE HOLY GRAIL' " — Page 322 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



323 



She sent the deathless passion in her And in the blast there smote along 

eyes the hall 

Thro' him, and made him hers, and A beam of light seven times more 

laid her mind clear than day: 

On him, and he believed in her be- And down the long beam stole the 



lief. 

"Then came a year of miracle: O 
brother, 

In our great hall there stood a va- 
cant chair, 

Fashion'd by Merlin ere he past 
away, 

And carven with strange figures; 
and in and out 

The figures, like a serpent, ran a 
scroll 

Of letters in a tongue no man could 
read. 

And Merlin call'd it ' The Siege per- 
ilous,' 

Perilous for good and ill; ' for there,' Because"^ f 'had not seen the Grail, 
he said, ,vould ride 

JNo man could sit but he should a <.„,„i„„^^„4-u ^ j j ■ .. r 

,,.,,, A tM^elvemonth and a day in quest of 

lose himselr: -^ 

And once by misadvertence Merlin tt„*-i 't f^ .,j j v ^u 

•^ Until 1 round and saw it, as the 

In his own chair, and so was lost; i\/r„ o:,-*„^ „„,„ •*. j /^ 1 u j 

, , ' ' My sister saw it ; and (jalahad sware 

but he, , f ,^ ,. , the vow, 

Galahad, when he heard of Merlins ^^^ ^^^^ gj^ g^^^^ ^^^ Lancelot's 

doom, 



Holy Grail 
All over cover'd with a luminous 

cloud. 
And none might see who bare it, and 

it past. 
But every knight beheld his fellow's 

face 
As in a glory, and all the knights 

arose. 
And staring each at other like dumb 

men 
Stood, till I found a voice and sware 

a vow. 

" I sware a vow before them all, 
that I, 



cousin, sware. 
And Lancelot sware, and many 

among the knights, 
And Gawain sware, and louder 

than the rest." 

Then spake the monk Ambrosius, 
asking him, 
"What said the King? Did Arthur 
take the vow? " 

" Nay, for my lord," said Perci- 
vale, " the King, 
And rending, and a blast, and over- Was not in hall : for early that same 

head day, 

Thunder, and in the thunder was a Scaped thro' a cavern from a bandit 
cry. hold, 



Cried, ' If I lose myself, I save my- 
self!' 

" Then on a summer night It came 

to pass, 
While the great banquet lay along 

the hall. 
That Galahad would sit down in 

Merlin's chair. 

" And all at once, as there we sat, 
we heard 
A cracking and a riving of the roofs, 



324 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

An outraged maiden sprang into the Climbs to the mighty hall that Mer- 

hall lin built. 

Crying on help: for all her shining And four great zones of sculpture, 

hair set betwixt 

Was smear'd with earth, and either With many a mystic symbol, gird 

milky arm the hall : 

Red-rent with hooks of bramble, and And in the lowest beasts are slaying 

all she wore men. 

Torn as a sail that leaves the rope And in the second men are slaying 

is torn beasts, 

In tempest: so the King arose and And on the third are warriors, per- 

went feet men. 

To smoke the scandalous hive of And on the fourth are men with 

those wild bees growing wangs, 

That made such honey in his realm. And over all one statue in the mold 

Howbeit Of Arthur, made by Merlin, with a 

Some little of this marvel he too crown, 

saw. And peak'd wings pointed to the 

Returning o'er the plain that then Northern Star. 

began And eastward fronts the statue, and 

To darken under Camelot; whence the crown 

the King And both the wings are made of 

Look'd up, calling aloud, ' Lo, there! gold, and flame 

the roofs At sunrise till the people in far fields. 

Of our great hall are roll'd in thun- Wasted so often by the heathen 

der-smoke ! hordes, 

Pray Heaven, they be not smitten by Behold it, crying, ' We have still a 

the bolt.' King.' 
For dear to Arthur was that hall of 

ours, 

As having there so oft with all his " And, brother, had you known 

knights our hall within, 

Feasted, and as the stateliest under Broader and higher than any in all 

heaven. the lands! 

Where twelve great windows blazon 
Arthur's wars, 

" O brother, had you known our And all the light that falls upon the 

mighty hall, board 
Which Merlin built for Arthur long Streams thro' the twelve great bat- 
ago! ties of our King. 
For all the sacred mount of Came- Nay, one there is, and at the eastern 

lot, end. 

And all the dim rich city, roof by Wealthy with wandering lines of 

roof, mount and mere, 
Tower after tower, spire beyond Where Arthur finds the brand Ex- 
spire, calibur. 
By grove, and garden-lawn, and And also one to the west, and coun- 

rushing brook, ter to it, 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



325 



And blank: and who shall blazon it? My King, thou wouldst have sworn.' 
when and how? — 'Yea, yea,' said he, 

O there, perchance, when all our ' Art thou so bold and hast not seen 
wars are done, the Grail ? ' 

The brand Excalibur will be cast 



away. 

" So to this hall full quickly rode 

the King, 
In horror lest the work by Merlin 

wrought, 
Dreamlike, should on the sudden 

vanish, wrapt 
In unremorseful folds of rolling fire. 



" ' Nay, lord, I heard the sound, I 

saw the light. 
But since I did not see the Holy 

Thing, 
I sware a vow to follow it till I 

saw.' 

" Then when he ask'd us, knight 
by knight, if any 



And in he rode, and up I glanced. Had seen it, all their answers were 

and saw as one: 

The golden dragon sparkling over ' Nay, lord, and therefore have we 



sworn our vows. 



" ' Lo now,' said Arthur, ' have 
ye seen a cloud? 
What go ye into the wilderness to 



Then Galahad on the sudden, 
and in a voice 



all: 
And many of those who burnt the 

hold, their arms 
Hack'd, and their foreheads grimed 

with smoke, and sear'd, 
Follow'd, and in among bright faces, 

ours, 
Full of the vision, prest: and then 

the King 
Spake to^me, being nearest, ' Perci- Shrilling along the hall to Arthur, 

vale, call'd 

(Because the hall was all in tumult 'But I, Sir Arthur, saw the Holy 

— some Grail 

Vowing and some protesting), 'what i g^w the' Holy Grail and heard a 

IS this? ^ 

"O Galahad, and O Galahad, fol- 

" O brother, when I told him what low me." ' 

had chanced. 

My sister's vision, and the rest, his " ' Ah, Galahad, Galahad,' said the 

face King, ' for such 

Darken'd, as I have seen it more As thou art is the vision, not for 

than once, these. 

When some brave deed seem'd to be Thy holy nun and thou have seen si 

done in vain, sign — 

Darken ; and ' Woe is me, my Holier is none, my Percivale, than 

knights,' he cried, she — 

' Had I been here, ye had not sworn A sign to maim this Order which I 

the vow.' made. 

Bold was mine answer, * Had thyself But ye, that follow but the leader's 

been here, bell ' 



326 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

(Brother, the King was hard upon The morrow morn once more in one 

his knights) full field 

' Taliessin is our fullest throat of Of gracious pastime, that once more 

song, the King, 

And one hath sung and all the dumb Before ye leave him for this Quest, 

will sing. may count 

Lancelot is Lancelot, and hath over- The j'et-unbroken strength of all his 

borne knights, 

Five knights at once, and every Rejoicing in that Order which he 

younger knight, made.' 

Unproven, holds himself as Lance- 
lot, " So when the sun broke next from 
Till overborne by one, he learns — under ground, 

and ye, All the great table of our Arthur 
What are ye? Galahads? — no, nor closed 

Percivales ' And clash'd in such a tourney and so 
(For thus it pleased the King to full, 

range me close So many lances broken — never yet 

After Sir Galahad); 'nay,' said he. Had Camelot seen the like, since 

'but men Arthur came; 

With strength and will to right the And I myself and Galahad, for a 

wrong'd, of power strength 

To lay the sudden heads of violence Was in us from the vision, overthrew 

flat, So many knights that all the people 
Knights that in twelve great battles cried, 

splash'd and dyed And almost burst the barriers in 
The strong White Horse in his own their heat, 

heathen blood — Shouting, ' Sir Galahad and Sir Per- 
But one hath seen, and all the blind civale! ' 

will see. 
Go, since your vows are sacred, be- " But when the next day brake 

ing made: from under ground — 

Yet — for ye know the cries of all O brother, had you known our Cam- 

my realm elot. 

Pass thro' this hall — how often, O Built by old kings, age after age, so 

my knights, old 

Your places being vacant at my The King himself had fears that it 

side, would fall, 

This chance of noble deeds will come So strange, and rich, and dim; for 

and go where the roofs 

Unchallenged, while ye follow wan- Totter'd toward each other in the 

dering fires sky. 

Lost in the quagmire! Many of Met foreheads all along the street of 

you, yea most, those 

Return no more: ye think I show Who watch'd us pass; and lower, 

myself and where the long 

Too dark a prophet: come now, let Rich galleries, lady-laden, weigh'd 

us meet the necks 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



327 



Of dragons clinging to the crazy 

walls, 
Thicker than drops from thunder, 

showers of flowers 
Pell as we past ; and men and boys 

astride 
On wyvern, lion, dragon, griffin, 

swan, 
At all the corners, named us each by 

name. 
Calling * God speed ! ' but in the 

ways below 
The knights and ladies wept, and 

rich and poor 
Wept, and the King himself could 

hardly speak 
For grief, and all in middle street the 

Queen, 
Who rode by Lancelot, wail'd and 

shriek'd aloud, 
* This madness has come on us for 

our sins.' 
So to the Gate of the three Queens 

we came. 
Where Arthur's wars are render'd 

mystically. 
And thence departed every one his 

way. 

" And I was lifted up in heart, 

and thought 
Of all my late-shown prowess in the 

lists, 
How my strong lance had beaten 

down the knights. 
So many and famous names ; and 

never yet 
Had heaven appear'd so blue, nor 

earth so green. 
For all my blood danced in me, and 

I knew 
That I should light upon the Holy 

Grail. 

" Thereafter, the dark warning of 
our King, 
That most of us would follow wan- 
dering fires, 



Came like a driving gloom across my 

mind. 
Then every evil word I had spoken 

once. 
And every evil thought I had thought 

of old. 
And every evil deed I ever did. 
Awoke and cried, ' This Quest is not 

for thee.' 
And lifting up mine eyes, I found 

myself 
Alone, and in a land of sand and 

thorns. 
And I was thirsty even unto death ; 
And I, too, cried, ' This Quest is not 

for thee.' 

" And on I rode, and when I 

thought my thirst 
Would slay me, saw deep lawns, 

and then a brook, 
With one sharp rapid, where the 

crisping white 
Play'd ever back upon the sloping 

wave. 
And took both ear and eye; and o'er 

the brook 
Were apple-trees, and apples by the 

brook 
Fallen, and on the lawns. ' I will 

rest here,' 
I said, ' I am not worthy of the 

Quest; ' 
But even while I drank the brook, 

and ate 
The goodly apples, all these things 

at once 
Fell into dust, and I was left alone, 
And thirsting, in a land of sand and 

thorns. 

" And then behold a woman at a 
door 

Spinning; and fair the house where- 
by she sat. 

And kind the woman's eyes and inno- 
cent. 



328 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And all her bearing gracious; and And up I went and touch'd him, and 

she rose he, too, 

Opening her arms to meet me, as Fell into dust, and I was left alone 

who should say, And wearying in a land of sand and 

' Rest here; ' but when I touch'd her, thorns. 

lo! she, too, 

Fell into dust and nothing, and the ' And I rode on and found a 

house mighty hill. 

Became no better than a broken And on the top, a city wall'd : the 

shed, spires 

And in it a dead babe; and also Prick'd with incredible pinnacles into 

this heaven. 

Fell into dust, and I was left alone. And by the gateway stirr'd a crowd; 

and these 
Cried to me climbing, ' Welcome, 

"And on I rode, and greater was Percivale! 

my thirst. Thou mightiest and thou purest 

Then flash'd a yellow gleam across among men ! ' 

the world. And glad was I and clomb, but 

And where it smote the plowshare in found at top 

the field. No man, nor any voice. And thence 

The plowman left his plowing, and I past 

fell down Far thro' a ruinous city, and I saw 

Before it; where it glitter'd on her That man had once dwelt there; but 

pail, there I found 

The milkmaid left her milking, and Only one man of an exceeding age. 

fell down * Where is that goodly company,' 

Before it, and I knew not why, but said I, 

thought ' That so cried out upon me ? ' and 

' The sun is rising,' tho' the sun had he had 

risen. Scarce any voice to answer, and yet 

Then was I ware of one that on me gasp'd, 

moved ' Whence and what art thou ? ' and 

In golden armor with a crown of even as he spoke 

gold Fell into dust, and disappear'd, and 

About a casque all jewels; and his I 

horse Was left alone once more, and cried 

In golden armor jewel'd everywhere: in grief, 

And on the splendor came, flashing ' Lo, if I find the Holy Grail itself 

me blind ; And touch it, it will crumble into 

And seem'd to me the Lord of all dust.' 

the world. 

Being so huge. But when I thought " And thence I dropt into a lowly 

he meant vale, 

To crush me, moving on me, lo! he. Low as the hill was high, and where 

too, the vale 

Open'd his arms to embrace me as Was lowest, found a chapel, and 

he came, thereby 



THE HOLY GRAIL 329 

A holy hermit in a hermitage, And hither am I come; and never 

To whom I told my phantoms, and yet 

he said : Hath what thy sister taught me first 

to see, 

" ' O son, thou hast not true hu- This Holy Thing, fail'd from my 

mility, side, nor come 

The highest virtue, mother of them Cover'd, but moving with me night 

all; and day. 

For when the Lord of all things Fainter by day, but always in the 

made Himself night 

Naked of glory for His mortal Blood-red, and sliding down the 

change, blacken'd marsh 

" Take thou my robe," she said. Blood-red, and on the naked moun- 

" for all is thine," tain top 

And all her form shone forth with Blood-red, and in the sleeping mere 

sudden light below 

So that the angels were amazed, and Blood-red. And in the strength of 

she this I rode, 

Follow'd Him down, and like a fly- Shattering all evil customs every- 

ing star where, 

Led on the gray-hair'd wisdom of And past thro' Pagan realms, and 

the east ; made them mine. 

But her thou hast not known: for And clash'd with Pagan hordes, and 

what is this bore them down. 

Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and And broke thro' all, and in the 

thy sins? strength of this 

Thou hast not lost thyself to save Come victor. But my time is hard 

thyself at hand. 

As Galahad.' When the hermit And hence I go; and one will crown 

made an end, me king 

In silver armor suddenly Galahad Far in the spiritual city ; and come 

shone thnu, too. 

Before us, and against the chapel For thou shalt see the vision when I 

door go.' 
Laid lance, and enter'd, and we knelt 

in prayer. " While thus he spake, his eye. 

And there the hermit slaked my dwelling on mine, 

burning thirst. Drew me, with power upon me, till I 

And at the sacring of the mass I grew 

saw One with him, to believe as he 

The holy elements alone ; but he, believed. 

* Saw ye no more? I, Galahad, saw Then, when the day began to wane, 

the Grail, we went. 
The Holy Grail, descend upon the 

shrine: "There rose a hill that none but 

I saw the fiery face as of a child man could climb, 

That smote itself into the bread, and Scarr'd with a hundred wintry 

went ; water-courses — 



330 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Storm at the top, and when we 

gain'd it, storm 
Round us and death ; for every 

moment glanced 
His silver arms and gloom'd : so 

quick and thick 
The lightnings here and there to left 

and right 
Struck, till the dr}- old trunks about 

us, dead. 
Yea, rotten with a hundred years of 

death, 
Sprang into fire: and at the base we 

found 
On either hand, as far as eye could 

see, 
A great black swamp and of an evil 

smell, 
Part black, part whiten'd with the 

bones of men. 
Not to be crost, save that some 

ancient king 
Had built a way, where, link'd with 

many a bridge, 
A thousand piers ran into the great 

Sea. 
And Galahad fled along them bridge 

by bridge. 
And every bridge as quickly as he 

crost 
Sprang into fire and vanish'd, tho' I 

yearn'd 
To follow; and thrice above him all 

the heavens 
Open'd and blazed with thunder 

such as seem'd 
Shoutings of all the sons of God : 

and first 
At once I saw him far on the great 

Sea, 
In silver-shining armor starry-clear; 
And o'er his head the Holy Vessel 

hung 
Clothed in white samite or a lumi- 
nous cloud. 
And with exceeding swiftness ran 

the boat, 



If boat it were — I saw not whence 

it came. 
And when the heavens open'd and 

blazed again 
Roaring, I saw him like a silver 

star — 
And had he set the sail, or had the 

boat 
Become a living creature clad with 

wings ? 
And o'er his head the Holy Vessel 

hung 
Redder than any rose, a joy to me, 
For now I knew the veil had been 

withdrawn. 
Then in a moment when they blazed 

again 
Opening, I saw the least of little 

stars 
Down on the waste, and straight 

beyond the star 
I saw the spiritual city and all her 

spires 
And gateways in a glory like one 

pearl — 
No larger, tho' the goal of all the 

saints — 
Strike from the sea ; and from the 

star there shot 
A rose-red sparkle to the city, and 

there 
Dwelt, and I knew it was the Holy 

Grail, 
Which never eyes on earth again 

shall see. 
Then fell the floods of heaven drown- 
ing the deep. 
And how my feet recrost the death- 

ful ridge 
No memory in me lives ; but that I 

touch'd 
The chapel-doors at dawn I know; 

and thence 
Taking my war-horse from the holy 

man. 
Glad that no phantom vext me 

more, return'd 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



331 



To whence I came, the gate of 
Arthur's wars." 

" O brother," ask'd Ambrosius, — 

" for in sooth 
These ancient books — and they 

would win thee — teem. 
Only I find not there this Holy 

Grail, 
With miracles and marvels like to 

these, 
Not all unlike; which oftentime I 

read. 
Who read but on my breviary with 

ease. 
Till my head swims ; and then go 

forth and pass 
Down to the little thorpe that lies so 

close, 
And almost plaster'd like a martin's 

nest 
To these old walls — and mingle 

with our folk; 
And knowing every honest face of 

theirs 
As well as ever shepherd knew his 

sheep, 
And every homely secret in their 

hearts. 
Delight myself with gossip and old 

wives, 
And ills and aches, and teethings, 

lyings-in. 
And mirthful sayings, children of the 

place. 
That have no meaning half a league 

away: 
Or lulling random squabbles when 

they rise, 
Chafferings and chatterings at the 

market-cross. 
Rejoice, small man, in this small 

world of mine. 
Yea, even in their hens and in their 

eggs — 
O brother, saving this Sir Galahad, 
Came ye on none but phantoms in 

your quest, 



No man, no woman?" 

Then Sir Percivale: 
" All men, to one so bound by 

such a vow. 
And women were as phantoms. O 

my brother. 
Why wilt thou shame me to confess 

to thee 
How far I falter'd from my quest 

and vow ? 
For after I had lain so many nights, 
A bedmate of the snail and eft and 

snake, 
In grass and burdock, I was changed 

to wan 
And meager, and the vision had not 

come ; 
And* then I chanced upon a goodly 

town 
With one great dwelling in the mid- 
dle of ,it ; 
Thither I made, and there was I dis- 
arm 'd 
By maidens each as fair as any 

flower: 
But when they led me into hall, 

behold. 
The Princess of that castle was the 

one. 
Brother, and that one only, who had 

ever 
Made my heart leap; for when I 

moved of old 
A slender page about her father's 

hall. 
And she a slender maiden, all my 

heart 
Went after her with longing: yet we 

twain 
Had never kiss'd a kiss, or vow'd a 

vow. 
And now I came upon her, once 

again, 
Aqd one had wedded her, and he was 

dead, 
And all his land and \\ealth and state 

were hers. 



332 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And while I tarried, every day she Cared not for her, nor anything upon 

set earth." 
A banquet richer than the day be- 
fore Then said the monk, " Poor men, 
By me; for all her longing and her when j^ule is cold, 

will Must be content to sit by little fires. 

Was toward me as of old ; till one And this am I, so that ye care for 

fair morn, me 

I walking to and fro beside a Ever so little; yea, and blest be 

stream Heaven 

That flash'd across her orchard That brought thee here to this poor 

underneath house of ours 

Her castle-walls, she stole upon my Where all the brethren are so hard, 

walk, to warm 

And calling me the greatest of all My cold heart with a friend : but O 

knights, the pity 

Embraced me, and so kiss'd me the To find thine own first love once 

first time, more — to hold. 

And gave herself and all her wealth Hold her a wealthy bride within 

to me. thine arms. 

Then I remember'd Arthur's warn- Or all but hold, and then — cast 

ing word, her aside. 

That most of us would follow wan- Foregoing all her sweetness, like a 

dering fires, weed. 

And the Quest faded in my heart. For we that want the warmth of 

Anon, double life. 

The heads of all her people drew to We that are plagued with dreams of 

me, . something sweet 

With supplication both of knees and Beyond all sweetness in a life so 

tongue : rich, — 

'We have heard of thee: thou art Ah, blessed Lord, I speak too earthlj^- 

our greatest knight, wise, 

Our lady says it, and we well be- Seeing I never stray'd beyond the 

lieve : cell. 

Wed thou our Lady, and rule over But live like an old badger in his 

us, earth, 

And thou shalt be as Arthur in our With earth about him everywhere, 

land.' despite 

O me, my brother! but one night my All fast and penance. Saw ye none 

vow beside, 

Burnt me within, so that I rose and None of your knights?" 

But wail'd and wept, and hated mine "Yea so," said Percivale: 

own self, " One night my pathway swerving 

And ev'n the Holy Quest, and all east, I saw 

but her; The pelican on the casque of our Sir 

Then after I was join'd with Gala- Bors 

had All in the middle of the rising moon: 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



333 



And toward him spurr'd, and hail'd Rode to the lonest tract of all the 

him, and he me, realm, 

And each made joy of either; then And found a people there among 

he ask'd, their crags, 

'Where is he? hast thou seen him — Our race and blood, a remnant that 

Lancelot ? — Once,' were left 

Said good Sir Bors, ' He dash'd Paynim amid their circles, and the 

across me — mad, stones 

And maddening what he rode : and They pitch up straight to heaven : 

when I cried, and their wise men 

" Ridest thou then so hotly on a Were strong in that old magic which 

quest can trace 

So holy," Lancelot shouted, " Stay The wandering of the stars, and 

me not! scolf'd at him 

I have been the sluggard, and I ride And this high Quest as at a simple 

apace, thing: 

For now there is a lion in the way." Told him he follow'd — almost 
So vanish'd.' Arthur's words — 

A mocking fire: 'What other fire 

" Then Sir Bors had ridden on -.tti u ^i ' ui j l i i 

c x^i 1 ■ c T Whereby the blood beats, and the 

boftly, and sorrowmg for our Lance- ui ki 



lot. 



blossom blows. 



Tj 'u- £ J ^u And the sea rolls, and all the world 

Joecause his lormer madness, once the • > j d > 

talk IS warm d? 



And scandal of our table, had re- 
turn'd; 

For Lancelot's kith and kin so wor- 
ship him 

That ill to him is ill to them; to 

Beyond the rest: he well had been l i .1 ' ^'"^ 



And when his answer chafed them, 

the rough crowd. 
Hearing he had a difference with 

their priests. 
Seized him, and bound and plunged 

him into a cell 



innumerable 



content 

Not to have seen, so Lancelot might 
have seen. 

The Holy Cup of healing; and, in- 
deed. 

Being so clouded with his grief and 

love, u -^ 1- 

c u X, ^ u- r. ^u TT 1 rleavy as it was, a great stone siipt 

bmall heart was his aiter the Holy ri ^^ 11 ' *= ^ 



bounden there 
In darkness thro' 

hours 
He heard the hollow-ringing heavens 

sweep 
Over him till by miracle — what 

else ? — 



Quest 
If God would send the vision, well : 

,T>, r^ ' 1 1 • u L J Glimmer'd the streaming scud : then 
Ihe Quest and he were in the hands ,. -^.i.^ 



and fell. 
Such as no wind could move: and 
thro' the gap 



of Heaven. 



came a night 
Still as the day was loud ; and thro' 
the gap 
" And then, with small adventure The seven clear stars of Arthur's' 
met, Sir Bors Table Round — 



334 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



For, brother, so one night, because 

they roll 
Thro' such a round in heaven, we 

named the stars, 
Rejoicing in ourselves and in our 

King — 
And these, like bright eyes of famil- 
iar friends, 
In on him shone : * And then to me, 

to me,' 
Said good Sir Bors, ' Beyond all 

hopes of mine. 
Who scarce had pray'd or ask'd it 

for myself — 
Across the seven clear stars — O 

grace to me — 
In color like the fingers of 'a hand 
Before a burning taper, the sweet 

Grail 
Glided and past, and close upon it 

peal'd 
A sharp quick thunder.' After- 
wards, a maid. 
Who kept our holy faith among her 

kin 
In secret, entering, loosed and let 

him go." 

To whom the monk: 'And I 

remember now 
That pelican on the casque : Sir 

Bors it was 
Who spake so low and sadly at our 

board ; 
And mighty reverent at our grace 

was he: 
A square-set man and honest; and 

his eyes. 
An out-door sign of all the warmth 

within, 
Smiled with his lips — a smile be- 
neath a cloud. 
But heaven had meant it for a sunny 

one: 
Aye, aye. Sir Bors, who else? But 

when ye reach'd 
The city, found ye all your knights 

return'd, 



Or was there sooth in Arthur's 

prophecy. 
Tell me, and what said each, and 

what the King ? " 

Then answer'd Percivale : " And 

that can I, 
Brother, and truly; since the living 

words 
Of so great men as Lancelot and 

our King 
Pass not from door to door and out 

again, 
But sit within the house. O, when 

we reach'd 
The city, our horses stumbling as 

they trode 
On heaps of ruin, hornless unicorns, 
Crack'd basilisks, and splinter'd 

cockatrices. 
And shatter'd talbots, which had 

left the stones 
Raw, that they fell from, brought us 

to the hall. 

" And there sat Arthur on the 

dais-throne. 
And those that had gone out upon 

the Quest, 
Wasted and worn, and but a tithe of 

them. 
And. those that had not, stood before 

the King, 
Who, when he saw me, rose, and 

bade me hail, 
Saying, ' A welfare in thine eye re- 
proves 
Our fear of some disastrous chance 

for thee 
On hill, or plain, at sea, or flooding 

ford. 
So fierce a gale made havoc here of 

late 
Among the strange devices of our 

kings ; 
Yea, shook this newer, stronger hall 

of ours, 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



335 



And from the statue Merlin molded Until the King espied him, saying 

for us to him, 

Half-wrench'd a golden wing; but 'Hail, Bors! if ever loyal man and 

now — the Quest, true 

This vision — hast thou seen the Could see it, thou hast seen the 

Holy Cup, Grail;' and Bors, 

That Joseph brought of old to Glas- 'Ask me not, for I may not speak. 



of it: 
I saw it ; ' and the tears were in his 
eyes. 

" Then there remain'd but Lance- 
lot, for the rest 
Spake but of sundry perils in the 

storm ; 
Perhaps, like him of Cana in Holy 

Writ, 
Our Arthur kept his best until the 
last; 
" ' Nay, lord,' said Gawain, ' not ' Thou, too, my Lancelot,' ask'd the 
for such as I. King, ' my friend. 

Therefore I communed with a Our mightiest, hath this Quest 

saintly man, avail'd for thee? ' 

\VTio made me sure the Quest was 



tonbury ? ' 

" So when I told him all thyself 
hast heard, 

Ambrosius, and my fresii but fixt 
resolve 

To pass away into the quiet life, 

He answer'd not, but, sharply turn- 
ing, ask'd 

Of Gawain, ' Gawain, was this 
Ouest for thee ? ' 



not for me ; 
For I was much awearied of the 

Quest: 
But found a silk pavilion in a field. 
And merry maidens in it ; and then 

this gale 
Tore my pavilion from the tenting- 

pin. 
And blew my merry maidens all 

about 
With all discomfort; yea, and but 

for this, 
My twelvemonth and a day were 

pleasant to me.' 



** ' Our mightiest ! ' a n s w e r' d 
Lancelot, with a groan ; 
' O King ! ' — and when he paused, 

methought I spied 
A dying fire of madness in his eyes — 
' O King, my friend, if friend of 

thine I be. 
Happier are those that welter in their 

sin. 
Swine in the mud, that cannot see 

for slime. 
Slime of the ditch : but in me lived 

a sin 
So strange, of such a kind, that all 
of pure, 
" He ceased ; and Arthur turn'd Noble, and knightly in me twined 
to whom at first and clung 

He saw not, for Sir Bors, on enter- Round that one sin, until the whole- 

ing, push'd some flower 

Athwart the throng to Lancelot, And poisonous grew together, each 

caught his hand, as each, 

Held it, and there, half-hidden by Not to be pluck'd asunder; and 
him, stood, when thy knights 



336 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Sware, I sware with them only in And blackening in the sea-foam 

the hope sway'd a boat, 

That could I touch or see the Holy Half-swallow'd in it, anchor'd with 

Grail a chain; 

They might be pluck'd asunder. And in my madness to myself I said, 

Then I spake " I will embark and I will lose my- 

To one most holy saint, who wept self, 

and said, And in the great sea wash away my 

That save they could be pluck'd sin." 

asunder, all I burst the chain, I sprang into the 

My quest were but in vain ; to boat. 

whom I vow'd Seven days I drove along the dreary 

That I would work according as deep, 

he will'd. And with me drove the moon and all 

And forth I went, and while I the stars; 

yearn'd and strove And the wind fell, and on the seventh 

To tear the twain asunder in my night 

heart, I heard the shingle grinding in the 

My madness came upon me as of surge, 

old, And felt the boat shock earth, and 

And whipt me into waste fields far looking up, 

away; Behold, the enchanted towers of Car- 
There was I beaten down by little bonek, 

men, A castle like a rock upon a rock. 

Mean knights, to whom the moving With chasm-like portals open to the 

of my sword sea, 

And shadow of my spear had been And steps that met the breaker! 

enow there was none 

To scare them from me once; and Stood near it but a lion on each 

then I came side 

All in my folly to the naked That kept the entry, and the moon 

shore, was full. 

Wide flats, where nothing but coarse Then from the boat I leapt, and up 

grasses grew ; the stairs. 

But such a blast, my King, began to There drew my sword. With sud- 

blow, den-flaring manes 

:So loud a blast along the shore and Those two great beasts rose upright 

sea, like a man. 

Ye could not hear the waters for the Each gript a shoulder, and I stood 

blast, between ; 

Tho' heapt in mounds and ridges all And, when I would have smitten 

the sea them, heard a voice, 

Drove like a cataract, and all the " Doubt not, go forward ; if thou 

sand doubt, the beasts 

Swept like a river, and the clouded Will tear thee piecemeal." Then 

heavens with violence 

Were shaken with the motion and The sword was dash'd from out my 

the sound. hand, and fell. 



THE HOLY GRAIL 



337 



And up into the sounding hall I 

past; 
But nothing in the sounding hall I 

sa\v% 
No bench nor table, painting on the 

wall 
Or shield of knight ; only the 

rounded moon 
Thro' the tall oriel on the rolling 

sea. 
But always in the quiet house I 

heard, 
Clear as a lark, high o'er me as a 

lark, 
A sweet voice singing in the topmost 

tower 
To the eastward : up I climb'd a 

thousand steps 
With pain : as in a dream I seem'd to 

climb 
For ever: at the last I reach'd a 

door, 
A light was in the crannies, and I 

heard, 
" Glory and joy and honor to our 

Lord 
And to the Holy Vessel of the 

Grail." 
Then in my madness I essay'd the 

door ; 
It gave; and thro' a stormy glare, a 

heat 
As from a seventimes-heated furnace, 

I, 

Blasted and burnt, and blinded as I 

was. 
With such a fierceness that I 

swoon 'd away — 
O, yet methought I saw the Holy 

Grail, 
All pall'd in crimson samite, and 

around 
Great angels, awful shapes, and 

wings and eyes. 
And but for all my madness and my 

sin, 
And then my swooning, I had sworn 

I saw 



That which I saw ; but what I saw 

was veil'd 
And cover'd ; and this Quest was not 

for me.' 

" So speaking, and here ceasing, 

Lancelot left 
The hall long silent, till Sir Gawain 

— nay, 
Brother, I need not tell thee foolish 

words, — 
A reckless and irreverent knight was 

he. 
Now bolden'd by the silence of his 

King, — 
Well, I will tell thee : ' O King, my 

liege,' he said, 
' Hath Gawain fail'd in any quest of 

thine? 
When have I stinted stroke in 

foughten field ? 
But as for thine, my good friend Per- 

civale. 
Thy holy nun and thou have driven 

men mad. 
Yea, made our mightiest madder than 

our least. 
But by mine eyes and by mine ears I 

swear, 
I will be deafer than the blue-eyed 

cat. 
And thrice as blind as any noondav 

owl, 
To holy virgins in their ecstasies. 
Henceforward.' 

Deafer,' said the blameless 

King, 
' Gawain, and blinder unto holy 

things 
Hope not to make thyself by idle 

vows, 
Being too blind to have desire to see. 
But if indeed there- came a sign from 

heaven. 
Blessed are Bors, Lancelot and Per- 

civale, 



338 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

For these have seen according to And leaving human wrongs to right 

their sight. themselves, 

For every fiery prophet in old times, Cares but to pass into the silent life. 

And all the sacred madness of the And one hath had the vision face to 

bard, face, 

When God made music thro' them, And now his chair desires him here 

could but speak in vain. 
His music by the framework and the However they may crown him other- 
chord ; where. 
And as ye saw it ye have spoken 

truth. " ' And some among you held, 

that if the King 

"'Nay — but thou errest. Lance- Had seen the sight he would have 

lot : never yet ., sworn the vow : 

Could all of true and noble in knight Not easily, seeing that the King 

and man must guard 

Twine round one sin, whatever it That which he rules, and is but as 

might be, the hind 

With such a closeness, but apart To whom a space of land is given to 

there grew, plow. 

Save that he were the swine thou Who may not wander from the allot- 

spakest of, ted field 

Some root of knighthood and pure Before his work be done; but, be- 

nobleness; ing done. 

Whereto see thou, that it may bear Let visions of the night or of the day 

its flower. Come, as they will ; and many a 

time they come, 

" ' And spake I not too truly, O Until this earth he walks on seems 

my knights? not earth. 

Was I too dark a prophet when I This light that strikes his eyeball is 

said not light. 

To those who went upon the Holy This air that smites his forehead Is 

Quest, not air 

That most of them would follow But vision — yea, his very hand and 

wandering fires, foot — 

Lost in the quagmire? — lost to me In moments when he feels he can- 

and gone, not die. 

And left me gazing at a barren And knows himself no vision to hlm- 

board, self. 

And a lean Order — scarce return'd Nor the high God a vision, nor that 

a tithe — One 

And out of those to whom the vision Who rose again : ye have seen what 

came ye have seen.' 
My greatest hardly will believe he 

saw ; " So spake the King : I knew not 

Another hath beheld It afar off, all he meant." 



PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 
PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 



339 



King Arthur made new knights to 

fill the gap 
Left by the Holy Quest; and as he 

sat 
In hall at old Caerleon, the high 

doors 
Were softly sunder'd, and thro' 

these a youth, 
Pelleas, and the sweet smell of the 

fields 
Past, and the sunshine came along 

with him. 



Almost to falling from his horse; 

but saw 
Near him a mound of even-sloping 

side, 
Whereon a hundred stately beeches 

grew, 
And here and there great hollies 

under them ; 
But for a mile all round was open 

space. 
And fern and heath: and slowly 

Pelleas drew 
To that dim day, then binding his 

good horse 
To a tree, cast himself down; and 



as he lay 

" Make me thy knight, because I At random looking over the brown 
know. Sir King, earth 

All that belongs to knighthood, and Thro' that green-glooming twilight 

I love." of the grove, 

Such was his cry: for having heard It seem'd to Pelleas that the fern 

the King without 

Had let proclaim a tournament — Burnt as a living fire of emeralds. 



the prize 
A golden circlet and a knightly 

sword. 
Full fain had Pelleas for his lady 

won 
The golden circlet, for himself the 

sword : 
And there were those who knew him 

near the King, 
And promised for him: and Arthur 

made him knight. 



So that his eyes were dazzled look- 
ing at it. 

Then o'er it crost the dimness of a 
cloud 

Floating, and once the shadow of a 
bird 

Flying, and then a fawn; and his 
eyes closed. 

And since he loved all maidens, but 
no maid 

In special, half-awake he whisper'd. 



"Where? 
And this new knight. Sir Pelleas O where? I love thee, tho' I know 



of the isles — 

But lately come to his inheritance, 

And lord of many a barren isle was 
he — 

Riding at noon, a day or twain be- 
fore. 

Across the forest call'd of Dean, to 
find 

Caerleon and the King, had felt the 
sun 

Beat like a strong knight on his 
helm, and reel'd 



thee not. 

For fair thou art and pure as Guin- 
evere, 

And I .will make thee with my spear 
and sword 

As famous — O my Queen, my 
Guinevere, 

For I will be thine Arthur when we 
meet." 

Suddenly waken'd with a sound 
of talk 



340 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And laughter at the limit of the And but for those large eyes, the 

wood, haunts of scorn, 

And glancing thro' the hoary boles, She might have seem'd a toy to trifle 

he saw, with, 

Strange as to some old prophet And pass and care no more. But 

might have seem'd while he gazed 

A vision hovering on a sea of fire. The beauty of her flesh abash'd the 

Damsels in divers colors like the boy, 

cloud As tho' it were the beauty of her 

Of sunset and sunrise, and all of soul : 

them For as the base man, judging of the 

On horses, and the horses richly trapt good. 

Breast-high in that bright line of Puts his own baseness in him by 

bracken stood : default 

And all the damsels talk'd con- Of will and nature, so did Pelleas 

fusedly, lend 

And one was pointing this way, and All the j^oung beauty of his own soul 

one that, to hers. 

Because the way was lost. Believing her; and when she spake 

to him, 

And Pelleas rose, Stammer'd, and could not make her 

And loosed his horse, and led him a reply. 

to the light. For out of the waste islands had he 

There she that seem'd the chief come, 

among them said, Where saving his own sisters he had 

^' In happy time behold our pilot- known 

star! Scarce any but the women of his 

Youth, we are damsels-errant, and isles, 

we ride. Rough wives, that laugh'd and 

Arm'd as ye see, to tilt against the scream'd against the gulls, 

knights Makers of nets, and living from the 

There at Caerleon, but have lost our sea. 

way : 
To right? to left? straight forward? 

back again? Then with a slow smile turn'd the 

Which ? tell us quickly ? " lady round 

And look'd upon her people; and as 

Pelleas gazing thought, when 

" Is Guinevere herself so beauti- A stone is flung into some sleeping 

ful?" tarn. 

For large her violet eyes look'd, and The circle widens till it lip the 

her bloom marge, 

A rosy dawn kindled in stainless Spread the slow smile thro' all her 

heavens, company. 

And round her limbs, mature in Three knights were thereamong; 

womanhood ; and they too smiled. 

And slender was her hand and small Scorning him; for the lady was 

her shape; Ettarre, 



PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 



3+1 



And she was a great lady in her And all her damsels too were 



land. 

Again she said, " O wild and of 
the woods, 
Knowest thou not the fashion of our 
speech ■* 



gracious to him, 
For she was a great lady. 



And when they reach'd 
Caerleon, ere they past to lodging, 
she. 



Or have the Heavens but given thee ^ , ■ 'i. , , u ^ i 

r • r ^ Takmg his hand, O the strong 
a lair race, , , „ , . , 



Lacking a tongue?" 



" O damsel," answer'd he. 



hand," she said, 
See! look at mine! but wilt thou 
fight for me, 



"I woke from dreams; and coming And win me this fine circlet, Pel 



out of gloom 



leas, 



Was dazzled by the sudden light. That I may love thee ? " 

and crave 
Pardon : but will ye to Caerleon ? I Then his helpless heart 

Go likewise: shall I lead you to the Leapt, and he cried, "Aye! wilt thou 

King?" if I win?" 



" Lead then," she said ; and thro' 

the woods they went. 
And while they rode, the meaning in 

his eyes, 
His tenderness of manner, and chaste 

awe. 
His broken utterances and bashful- 

ness. 
Were all a burthen to her, and in 

her heart 
She mutter'd, " I have lighted on a 

fool. 
Raw, yet so stale!" But since her 

mind vv^as bent 
On hearing, after trumpet blown, 

her name • 
And title, " Queen of Beauty," in 

the lists 
Cried — and beholding him so 

strong, she thought 
That peradventure he will fight for 

me. 
And win the circlet : therefore flatter'd 

him, 
Being so gracious, that he well-nigh 

deem'd 
His wish by hers was echo'd ; and her 

knights 



" Aye, that will I," she answer'd, and 

she laugh'd. 
And straitly nipt the hand, and flung 

it from her ; 
Then glanced askew at those three 

knights of hers. 
Till all her ladies laugh'd along with 

her. 



"O happy world," thought Pel- 
leas, " all, meseems. 
Are happy; I the happiest of them 

all." 
Nor slept that night for pleasure in 

his blood, 
And green wood-ways, and eyes 

among the leaves ; 
Then being on the morrow knighted, 

sware 
To love one only. And as he came 

away, 
The men who met him rounded on 

their heels 
And wonder'd after him, because his 

face 
Shone like the countenance of a 

priest of old 
Against the flame about a sacrifice 



342 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Kindled by fire from heaven : so glad With honor : so by that strong hand 

was he. of his 

The sword and golden circlet were 

Then Arthur made vast banquets, achieved. 

and strange knights 

From the four winds came in: and Then rang the shout his lady 

each one sat, loved : the heat 

Tho' served with choice from air, Of pride and glory fired her face; 

land, stream, and sea, her eye 

Oft in mid-banquet measuring with Sparkled ; she caught the circlet from 

his eyes his lance, 

His neighbor's make and might: and And there before the people crown'd 

Pelleas look'd herself: 

Noble among the noble, for he So for the last time she was gracious 

dream'd to him. 
His lady loved him, and he knew 

himself Then at Caerleon for a space — 

Loved of the King: and him his new- her look 

made knight Bright for all others, cloudier on her 

Worshipt, whose lightest whisper knight — 

moved him more Linger'd Ettarre : and seeing Pelleas 

Than all the ranged reasons of the droop, 

world. Said Guinevere, " We marvel at thee 

much, 

Then blush'd and brake the morn- O damsel, wearing this unsunny face 

ing of the jousts, To him who won thee glory!" 

And this was call'd " The Tourna- And she said, 

ment of Youth: " " Had ye not held your Lancelot in 

For Arthur, loving his young knight, your bower, 

withheld My Queen, he had not won." 

His older and his mightier from the Whereat the Queen, 

lists, As one whose foot is bitten by an 

That Pelleas might obtain his lady's ant, 

love. Glanced down upon her, turn'd and 

According . to her promise, and re- went her way. 

main 

Lord of the tourney. And Arthur But after, when her damsels, and 

had the jousts herself, 

Down in the flat field by the shore And those three knights all set their 

of Usk faces home, 

Holden : the gilded parapets were Sir Pelleas follow'd. She that saw 

crown'd him cried. 

With faces, and the great tower fiU'd " Damsels — and yet I should be 

with eyes shamed to say it — 

Up to the summit, and the trumpets I cannot bide Sir Baby. Keep him 

blew. back 

There all day long Sir Pelleas kept Among yourselves. Would rather 

the field that we had 



PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 343 

Some rough old knight who knew the Sat by the walls, and no one open'd 

worldly way, to him. 
Albeit grizzlier than a bear, to ride 

And jest with: take him to you, keep And this persistence turn'd her 

him off, scorn to wrath. 

And pamper him with papmeat, if ye Then calling her three knights, she 

will, charged them, "Out! 

Old milky fables of the wolf and And drive him from the walls." 

sheep, And out they came, 

Such as the wholesome mothers tell But Pelleas overthrew them as they 

their boys. dash'd 

Nay, should ye try him with a merry Against him one by one; and these 

one return'd, 

To find his mettle; good: and if he Ry But still he kept his watch beneath 

us, the wall. 
Small matter! let him." This her 

damsels heard. Thereon her wrath became a hate; 

And mindful of her small and cruel . and once, 

hand, A w-eek beyond, while walking on 

They, closing round him thro' the the walls 

journey home, With her three knights, she pointed 

Acted her best, and always from her downward, " Look, 

side He haunts me — I cannot breathe — 

Restrain'd him with all manner of besieges me; 

device, Down ! strike him ! put my hate into 

So that he could not come to speech your strokes, 

with her. And drive him from my walls." 

And when she gain'd her castle, up- And down they went, 

sprang the bridge, And Pelleas overthrew them one by 

Down rang the grate of iron thro' one; 

the groove. And from the tower above him cried 

And he was left alone in open field. Ettarre, 

" Bind him and bring him in." 
" These be the ways of ladies," 

Pelleas thought, He heard her voice; 

*' To those who love them, trials of Then let the strong hand, which had 

our faith. overthrown 

Yea, let her prove me to the utter- Her minion-knights, by those he 

most, overthrew 

For loyal to the uttermost am I." Be bounden straight, and so they 

So made his moan ; and, darkness brought him in. 

falling, sought 

A priory not far off, there lodged, Then when he came before 

but rose Ettarre, the sight 

With morning every day, and, moist Of her rich beauty made him at one 

or dry, glance 

Full-arm'd upon his charger all day More bondsman in his heart than in 

long his bonds. 



344 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Yet with good cheer he spake, Kick'd, he returns: do ye not hate 

" Behold me, Lady, him, ye? 

A prisoner, and the vassal of thy Ye know yourselves: how can ye bide 

will; at peace. 
And if thou keep me in thy donjon Affronted with his fulsome in- 
here, nocence ? 
Content am I so that I see thy face Are ye but creatures of the board and 
But once a day: for I have sworn bed, 

my vows. No men to strike? Fall on him all 

And thou hast given thy promise, and at once, 

I know And if ye slay him I reck not : if ye 

That all these pains are trials of my fail, 

faith. Give ye the slave mine order to be 

And that thyself, when thou hast seen bound, 

me strain'd Bind him as heretofore, and bring 

And sifted to the utmost, wilt at him in : 

length It may be ye shall slay him in his 

Yield me thy love and know me for bonds." 

thy knight." 

Then she began to rail so bitterly, She spake; and at her will they 

With all her damsels, he was couch'd their spears, 

stricken mute; Three against one: and Gawain pass- 
But when she mock'd his vows and ing by, 

the great King, Bound upon solitary adventure, saw 

Lighted on words: "For pity of Low down beneath the shadow of 

thine own self, those towers 

Peace, Lady, peace: is he not thine A villainy, three to one: and thro* 

and mine?" his heart 

" Thou fool," she said, " I never The fire of honor and all noble deeds 

heard his voice Flash'd, and he call'd, " I strike upon 

But long'd to break away. Unbind thy side — 

him now, The caitiffs!" "Nay," said Pelleas^ 

And thrust him out of doors; for save " but forbear; 

he be He needs no aid who doth his lady's 

Fool to the midmost marrow of his will." 

bones, 
He will return no more." And 

those, her three. So Gawain, looking at the villainy 

Laugh'd, and unbound, and thrust done, 

him from the gate. Forbore, but in his heat and eager- 
ness 

And after this, a week beyond. Trembled and quiver'd, as the dog, 

again withheld 

She call'd them, saying, " There he A moment from the vermin that he 

watches yet, sees 

There like a dog before his master's Before him, shivers, ere he springs 

door! and kills. 



PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 345 

And Pelleas overthrew them, one to A something — was it nobler than 

three ; myself ? — 

And they rose up, and bound, and Seem'd my reproach? He is not of 

brought him in. my kind. 

Then first her anger, leaving Pelleas, He could not love me, did he know 

burn'd me well. 

Full on her knights in many an evil Nay, let him go — and quickly." 

name And her knights 

Of craven, weakling, and thrice- Laugh'd not, but thrust him bounden 

beaten hound : out of door. 
" Yet, take him, ye that scarce are fit 

to touch. Forth sprang Gawain, and loosed 

Far less to bind, your victor, and him from his bonds, 

thrust him out, And flung them o'er the walls; and 

And let who will release him from afterward, 

his bonds. Shaking his hands, as from a lazar's 

And if he comes again " — there ^he rag, 

brake short; "Faith of my body," he said, "and 

And Pelleas answer'd, " Lady, for art thou not — 

indeed Yea thou art he, whom late our 

I loved you and I deem'd you beauti- Arthur made 

ful. Knight of his table; yea and he that 

I cannot brook to see your beauty won 

marr'd The circlet? wherefore hast thou so 

Thro' evil spite: and if ye love me defamed 

not, Thy brotherhood in me and all the 

I cannot bear to dream you so for- rest, 

sworn : As let these caitiffs on thee work their 

I had liefer ye were worthy of my will?" 

love. 

Than to be loved again of you — fare- And Pelleas answer'd, " O, their 

well ; wills are hers 

And tho' ye kill my hope, not yet my For whom I won the circlet ; and 

love, mine, hers. 

Vex not yourself: ye will not see m.e Thus to be bounden, so to see her 

more." face, 

Marr'd tho' it be with spite and 
mockery now. 

While thus he spake, she gazed Other than when I found her in the 

upon the man woods; 

Of princely bearing, tho' in bonds, And tho' she hath me bounden but in 

and thought, spite, 

"Why have I push'd him from me? And all to flout me, when they 

this man loves, bring me in, 

If love there be : yet him I loved not. Let me be bounden, I shall see her 

Why ? face ; 

I deem'd him fool? yea, so? or that Else must I die thro' mine unhappi- 

in him ness." 



346 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And Gavvain answer'd kindly tho' Then Pelleas lent his horse and all 

in scorn, his arms, 

" Why, let my lady bind me if she Saving the goodly sword, his prize, 

will, and took 

And let my lady beat me if she will: Gawain's, and said, " Betray me not, 
But an she send her delegate to thrall but help — 

These fighting hands of mine — Art thou not he whom men call light- 
Christ kill me then of-love?" 
But I will slice him handless by the 

wrist, " Aye," said Gawain, " for women 

And let my lady sear the stump for be so light." 

him. Then bounded forward to the castle 
Howl as he may. But hold me for walls, 

your friend: And raised a bugle hanging from his 
Come, ye know nothing: here I neck, 

pledge my troth. And winded it, and that so music- 
Yea, by the honor of the Table ally 

Round, That all the old echoes hidden in the 
I will be leal to thee and work thy wall 

work, Rang out like hollow woods at hunt- 
And tame thy jailing princess to thine ing-tide. 

hand. 
Lend me thine horse and arms, and I Up ran a score of. damsels to the 

will say tower; 

That I have slain thee. She will let " Avaunt," they cried, " our lady 

me in loves thee not." 

To hear the manner of thy fight and But Gawain lifting up his vizor said, 

fall; "Gawain am I, Gavvain of Arthur's 
Then, when I come within her court, 

counsels, then And I have slain this Pelleas whom 
From prime to vespers will I chant ye hate; 

thy praise Behold his horse and armor. Open 
As prowest knight and truest lover, gates, 

more And I will make you merr3\" 
Than any have sung thee living, till 

she long • And down they ran, 

To have thee back in lusty life Her damsels, crying to their lady, 

again, " Lo! 

Not to be bound, save by white bonds Pelleas is dead — he told us — he 

and warm, that hath 

Dearer than freedom. Wherefore His horse and armor: will ye let him 

now thy horse in? 

And armor: let me go: be com- He slew him! Gawain, Gawain of 

forted: the court, 

Give me three da^'S to melt her fancy. Sir Gawain — there he waits below 

and hope the wall. 

The third night hence will bring thee Blowing his bugle as who should say 

news of gold." him na}'." 



PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 347 

And so, leave given, straight on " One rose, a rose to gather by and 

thro' open door by, 

Rode Gawain, whom she greeted One rose, a rose, to gather and to 

courteously. wear, 

■"Dead, is it so?" she ask'd. "Aye, No rose but one — what other rose 

aye," said he, had I? 

*' And oft in dying cried upon your One rose, my rose ; a rose that will 

name." not die, — 

" Pity on him," she answer'd, " a He dies who loves it, — if the worm 

good knight, be there." 
But never let me bide one hour at 

P^^ce. This tender rhyme, and evermore 

" Aye," thought Gawain, " and you the doubt, 

be fair enow: "Why lingers Gawain with his 

But I to your dead man have given golden news?" 

my troth. So shook him that he could not rest, 

That whom ye loathe, him will I but rode 

make you love." Ere midnight to her walls, and bound 

his horse 

So those three days, aimless about Hard by the gates. Wide open were 

the land, the gates. 

Lost in a doubt, Pelleas wandering And no watch kept ; and in thro' 

Waited, until the third night brought these he past, 

a moon And heard but his own steps, and his 

With promise of large light on woods own heart 

and ways. Beating, for nothing moved but his 

own self. 

Hot was the night and silent; but a And his own shadow. Then he 

sound crost the court. 

Of Gawain ever coming, and this And spied not any light in hall or 

lay — bower, 

Which Pelleas had heard sung before But saw the postern portal also wide 

the Queen, Yawning; and up a slope of garden, 

And seen her sadden listening — all 

vext his heart, Of roses white and red, and brambles 

And marr'd his rest — " A worm mixt 

within the rose." And overgrowing them, went on, and 

found, 

" A rose, but one, none other rose Here too, all hush'd below the mel- 

had I, low moon, 

A rose, one rose, and this was won- Save that one rivulet from a tiny 

drous fair, cave 

One rose, a rose that gladden'd earth Came lightening downward, and so 

and sky, spilt itself 

One rose, my rose, that sweeten'd all Among the roses, and was lost again. 

mine air — 
I cared not for the thorns ; the thorns Then was he ware of three pa- 
were there. vilions rear'd 



348 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Above the bushes, gilden-peakt : in The naked sword athwart their naked 

one, throats, 

Red after revel, droned her lurdane There left it, and them sleeping; and 

knights she lay. 

Slumbering, and their three squires The circlet of the tourney round her 

across their feet: brows, 

In one, their malice on the placid lip And the sword of the tourney across 
Froz'n by sweet sleep, four of her her throat. 

damsels lay : 
And in the third, the circlet of the And forth he past, and mounting 

jousts on his horse 

Bound on her brow, were Gawain Stared at her towers that, larger than 

and Ettarre. themselves 

In their own darkness, throng'd into 

Back, as a hand that pushes thro' r^, i >j' .l i ji • i l- 

, 1 r -I hen crush d the saddle with his 

rr c J ^ J X 1 1 u thighs, and clench'd 

lo nnd a nest and feels a snake, he tt-uj j ii )j -ll- 

J His hands, and madden d with him- 
drew: ii: j )j 

r> 1 J I • 1 j: u ^ sell and moan d : 

Back, as a coward slinks from what 

T^ -,.1, * V " Would they have risen against me 

lo cope with, or a traitor proven, or • ^u • u i j 

u J ^ ' in their blood 

T» ^ j-j T) 11 • ** At the last day? I might have an- 

Beaten, did relleas in an utter »j u 

, swer d them 

n -,.1, 1,- u J *i, ' *k Even before high God. O towers so 

Creep with his shadow thro the ^ *= 

. strong, 

V •" ; u-' A u A^ ^^^ Huge, solid, would that even while I 

ringenng at his sword-handle until 

h t A gaze 

rj^, . .1 u -J The crack of earthquake shivering 

1 here on the castle-bridge once more, ^ , ^ ^ 

J , , to your base 

and thought, c iv j u n u 

u T -11 u 1 J 1 ^u u oplit you, and Hell burst up your 

I will go back, and slay them where u i ' r 

fU ]• " harlot roofs 

^ * Bellowing, and charr'd you thro' and 

thro' within, 

And so went back and seeing them Black as the harlot's heart — hollow 

yet in sleep as a skull ! 

Said, " Ye, that so dishallow the holy Let the fierce east scream thro' your 

sleep, eyelet-holes. 

Your sleep is death," and drew the And whirl the dust of harlots round 

sword, and thought, and round 

"What! slay a sleeping knight? the In dung and nettles! hiss, snake — I 

King hath bound saw him there — 

And sworn me to this brotherhood ; " Let the fox bark, let the wolf yell. 

again. Who yells 

" Alas that ever a knight should be Here in the still sweet summer night, 

so false." but I — 

Then turn'd, and so return'd, and I, the poor Pelleas whom she call'd 

groaning laid her fool? 



PELLEAS AND ETTARRE 349 

Fool, beast — he, she, or I ? myself And over hard and soft, striking the 

most fool; sod 

Beast too, as lacking human wit — From out the soft, the spark from ofE 

disgraced, the hard, 

Dishonor'd all for trial of true Rode till the star above the awakening 

love — sun, 

Love? we be all alike: only the Beside that tower where Percivale 

King was cowl'd. 

Hath made us fools and liars. O Glanced from the rosy forehead of 

noble vows! the dawn. 

great and sane and simple race of For so the words were flash'd into his 

brutes heart 

That own no lust because they have He knew not whence or wherefore: 

no law! " O sweet star. 

For why should I have loved her to Pure on the virgin forehead of the 

my shame? dawn!" 

1 loathe her, as I loved her to my And there he would have wept, but 

shame. felt his eyes 

I never loved her, I but lusted for Harder and drier than a fountain 

her — bed 

Away — " In summer : thither came the village 

girls 

He dash'd the rowel into his And linger'd talking, and they come 

horse, no more 

And bounded forth and vanish'd Till the sweet heavens have fill'd it 

thro' the night. from the heights 

Again with living waters in the 

Then she, that felt the cold touch change 

on her throat. Of seasons: hard his eyes; harder 

Awaking knew the sword, and turn'd his heart 

herself Seem'd; but so weary were his 

To Gawain : " Liar, for thou hast not limbs, that he, 

slain Gasping, " Of Arthur's hall am I, 

This Pelleas! here lie stood, and but here, 

might have slain Here let me rest and die," cast him- 

Me and thyself." And he that tells self down, 

the tale And gulf'd his. griefs in inmost sleep; 

Says that her ever-veering fancy so lay, 

turn'd Till shaken by a dream, that Gawain 

To Pelleas, as the one true knight on fired 

earth. The hall of Merlin, and the morning 

And only lover; and thro' her love star 

her life Reel'd in the smoke, brake into flame,., 

Wasted and pined, desiring him in and fell. 

vain. 

But he by wild and way, for half He woke, and being ware of some 

the night, one nigh. 



3SO 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Sent hands upon him, as to tear him, 

crying, 
" False ! and I held thee pure as 

Guinevere." 

But Percivale stood near him and 

replied, 
" Am I but false as Guinevere is 

pure? 
Or art thou mazed with dreams? or 

being one 
Of our free-spoken Table hast not 

heard 
That Lancelot " — there he check'd 

himself and paused. 

Then fared it with Sir Pelleas as 

with one 
Who gets a wound in battle, and the 

sword 
That made it plunges thro' the wound 

again, 
And pricks it deeper: and he shrank 

and wail'd, 
** Is the Queen false? " and Percivale 

was mute. 
" Have any of our Round Table held 

their vows? " 
And Percivale made answer not a 

word. 
"Is the King true?" "The 

King!" said Percivale. 
" Why then let men couple at once 

with wolves. 
What! art thou mad?" 

But Pelleas, leaping up. 
Ran thro' the doors and vaulted on 

his horse 
And fled : small pity upon his horse 

had he, 
Or on himself, or any, and when he 

met 
A cripple, one that held a hand for 

alms — 
Hunch'd as he was, and like an old 

dwarf-elm 



That turns its back on the salt blast, 

the boy 
Paused not, but overrode him, shout- 
ing, " False, 
And false with Gawain! " and so left 

him bruised 
And batter'd, and fled on, and hill 

and wood 
Went ever streaming by him till the 

gloom. 
That follows on the turning of the 

world, 
Darken'd the common path: he 

twitch'd the reins. 
And made his beast that better knew 

it, swerve 
Now off it and now on ; but when 

he saw 
High up in Heaven the hall that 

Merlin built. 
Blackening against the dead-green 

stripes of even, 
" Black nest of rats," he groan'd 

" ye build too high." 

Not long thereafter from the city 

gates 
Issued Sir Lancelot riding airily, 
Warm with a gracious parting from 

the Queen, 
Peace at his heart, and gazing at a 

star 
And marveling what it was: on 

whom the boy. 
Across the silent seeded meadow- 
grass 
Borne, clash'd : and Lancelot, saying, 

" What name hast thou 
That ridest here so blindly and so 

hard?" 
" No name, no name," he shouted, " a 

scourge am I 
To lash the treasons of the Table 

Round." 
"Yea, but thy name?" "I have 

many names," he cried: 
" I am wrath and shame and hate and 

evil fame. 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 351 

And like a poisonous wind I pass to Down on a bench, hard-breathing. 

blast " Have ye fought? " 

And blaze the crime of Lancelot and She ask'd of Lancelot. " Aye, my 

the Queen." Queen," he said. 

"First over me," said Lancelot, "And thou hast overthrown him?" 

" shalt thou pass." " Aye, my Queen." 

" Fight therefore," yell'd the youth, Then she, turning to Pelleas, " O 

and either knight young knight, 

Drew back a space, and when they Hath the great heart of knighthood 

closed, at once in thee fail'd 

The weary steed of Pelleas flounder- So far thou canst not bide, unfro- 

ing flung wardly, 

His rider, who call'd out from the A fall from him?" Then, for he 

dark field, answer'd not, 

"Thou art false as Hell: slay me: I "Or hast thou other griefs? If I, 

have no sword." the Queen, 

Then Lancelot, " Yea, between thy May help them, loose thy tongue, and 

lips — and sharp ; let me know." 

But here will I disedge it by thy But Pelleas lifted up an eye so fierce 

death." She quail'd ; and he, hissing " I have 

" Slay then," he shriek'd, " my will is no sword," 

to be slain," Sprang from the door into the dark. 

And Lancelot, with his heel upon the The Queen 

fall'n, Look'd hard upon her lover, he on 

Rolling his eyes, a moment stood, her: 

then spake: And each foresaw the dolorous day 

"Rise, weakling; I am Lancelot; say to be: 

thy say." And all talk died, as in a grove all 

song 
Beneath the shadow of some bird of 

And Lancelot slowly rode his war- prey; 

horse back Then a long silence came upon the 

To Camelot, and Sir Pelleas in brief hall, 

while And Modred thought, " The time is 

Caught his unbroken limbs from the hard at hand." 

dark field. 
And follow'd to the city. It 

chanced that both 

Brake into hall together, worn and THE LAST TOURNAMENT 

pale. 

There with her knights and dames Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain 

was Guinevere. in his mood 

Full wonderingly she gazed on Had made mock-knight of Arthur's 

Lancelot Table Round, 

So soon return'd, and then on Pelleas, At Camelot, high above the yellowing 

him woods. 

Who had not greeted her, but cast Danced like a wither'd leaf before the 

himself hall. 



352 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And toward him from the hall, with Vext her with plaintive memories of 

harp in hand, the child: 

And from the crown thereof a So she, delivering it to Arthur, said, 

carcanet " Take thou the jewels of this dead 

Of ruby swaying to and fro, the innocence, 

prize And make them, an thou wilt, a tour- 

Of Tristram in the jousts of yester- ney-prize." 

day, ... 

Came Tristram, saying, " Why skip To whom the King, " Peace to 

ye so. Sir Fool?" thine eagle-borne 

Dead nestling, and this honor after 

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding death, 

once Following thy will! but, O my 

Far down beneath a winding wall of Queen, I muse 

rock Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or 

Heard a child wail. A stump of oak zone 

half-dead. Those diamonds that I rescued from 

From roots like some black coil of the tarn, 

carven snakes. And Lancelot won, methought, for 

Clutch'd at the crag, and started thee to wear." 

thro' mid air 

Bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the "Would rather you had let them 

tree fall," she cried, 

Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' " Plunge and be lost — ill-fated as 

the wind they were. 

Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag A bitterness to me! — ye look 

and tree amazed, 

Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the peril- Not know^'ng they were lost as soon 

ous nest, as given — 

This ruby necklace thrice around her Slid from my hands, when I was 

neck, leaning out 

And all unscarr'd from beak or talon. Above the river — that unhappy child 

brought Past in her barge: but rosier luck 

A maiden babe ; which Arthur pitying will go 

took. With these rich jewels, seeing that 

Then gave it to his Queen to rear: they came 

the Queen Not from the skeleton of a brother- 

But coldly acquiescing, in her white slayer, 

arms But the sweet body of a maiden babe. 

Received, and after loved it tenderly. Perchance — who knows? — the pur- 

And named it Nestling; so forgot est of thy knights 

herself May win them for the purest of my 

A moment, and her cares; till that maids." 

young life 

Being smitten in mid heaven with She ended, and the cry of a great 

mortal cold joust 

Past from her ; and in time the carca- With trumpet-blowings ran on all the 

net ways 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 353 

From Camelot in among the faded Maim'd me and maul'd, and would 

fields outright have slain, 

To furthest towers; and everywhere Save that he sware me to a message, 

the knights saying, 

Arm'd for a day of glory before the ' Tell thou the King and all his liars. 

King. that I 

Have founded my Round Table in 

But on the hither side of that loud the North, 

morn And whatsoever his own knights have 

Into the hall stagger'd, his visage sworn 

ribb'd My knights have sworn the counter 

From ear to ear with dogwhip-weals, to it — and say 

his nose My tower is full of harlots, like his 

Bridge-broken, one eye out, and one court, 

hand off. But mine are worthier, seeing they 

And one with shatter'd fingers dan- profess 

gling lame, To be none other than themselves — 

A churl, to whom indignantly the and say 

King, My knights are all adulterers like his 

own, 

" My churl, for whom Christ died, But mine are truer, seeing they pro- 

what evil beast fess 

Hath drawn his claws athwart thy To be none other; and say his hour 

face? or fiend? is come, 

Man was it who marr'd heaven's im- The heathen are upon him, his long 

age in thee thus? " lance 

Broken, and his Excalibur a straw.' " 
Then, sputtering thro' the hedge of 

splinter'd teeth. Then Arthur turn'd to Kay the 

Yet strangers to the tongue, and with seneschal, 

blunt stump " Take thou my churl, and tend him 

Pitch-blacken'd sawing the air, said curiously 

the maim'd churl, Like a king's heir, till all his hurts 

be whole. 

" He took them and he drave them The heathen — but that ever-climb- 

to his tower — ing wave. 

Some hold he was a table-knight of Hurl'd back again so often in empty 

thine — foam, 

A hundred goodly ones — the Red Hath lain for years at rest — and 

Knight, he — renegades, 

Lord, I was tending swine, and the Thieves, bandits, leavings of confu- 

Red Knight sion, whom 

Brake in upon me and drave them The wholesome realm is purged of 

to his tower; otherwhere. 

And when I call'd upon thy name as Friends, thro' your manhood and 

one your fealty, — now 

That doest right by gentle and by Make their last head like Satan in 

churl, the North. 



354 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

My younger knights, new-made, in Or whence the fear lest this my 

whom your flower realm, uprear'd, 

Waits to be solid fruit of golden By noble deeds at one with noble 

deeds, vows, 

Move with me toward their quell- From flat confusion and brute vio- 

ing, which achieved, lences. 

The loneliest ways are safe from Reel back into the beast, and be no 

shore to shore. more? " 
But thou, Sir Lancelot, sitting in my 

place He spoke, and taking all his 

Enchair'd to-morrow, arbitrate the younger knights, 

field; Down the slope city rode, and 

For wherefore shouldst thou care to sharply turn'd 

mingle with it. North by the gate. In her high 

Only to yield my Queen her own bower the Queen, 

again? Working a tapestry, lifted up her 

Speak, Lancelot, thou art silent: is it head, 

well?" Watch'd her lord pass, and knew not 

that she sigh'd. 

Thereto Sir Lancelot answer'd, Then ran across her memory the 

" It is well: strange rhyme 

Yet better if the King abide, and Of bygone Merlin, " Where is he 

leave who knows? 

The leading of his younger knights to From the great deep to the great 

me. deep he goes." 
Else, for the King has will'd it, it is 

well." But when the morning of a tour- 
nament, 

Then Arthur rose and Lancelot By these in earnest those in mockery 

follow'd him, call'd 

And while they stood without the The Tournament of the Dead Inno- 

doors, the King cepce, 

Turn'd to him saying, " Is it then so Brake with a wet wind blowing, 

well ? Lancelot, 

Or mine the blame that oft I seem Round whose sick head all night, like 

as he birds of prey, 

Of whom was written, ' A sound is The words of Arthur flying shriek'd, 

in his ears ' ? arose, 

The foot that loiters, bidden go, — And down a streetway hung with 

the glance folds of pure 

That only seems half-loyal to com- White samite, and by fountains run- 

mand, — ning wine, 

A manner somewhat fall'n from Where children sat in white with cups 

reverence — of gold, 

Or have I dream'd the bearing of our Moved to the lists, and there, with 

knights slow sad steps 

Tells of a manhood ever less and Ascending, fill'd his double-dragon'd 

lower? chair. 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 355 

He glanced and saw the stately But newly-enter'd, taller than the 

galleries, rest, 

Dame, damsel, each thro' worship of And armor 'd all in forest green, 

their Queen whereon 

White-robed in honor of the stain- There tript a hundred tiny silver 

less child, deer, 

And some with scatter'd jewels, like a And wearing but a holly-spray for 

bank crest, 

Of maiden snow mingled with sparks With ever-scattering berries, and on 

of fire. shield 

He look'd but once, and vail'd his A spear, a harp, a bugle — Tristram 

eyes again. — late 

From overseas in Brittany return'd. 

The sudden trumpet sounded as in And marriage with a princess of that 

a dream realm, 

To ears but half-awaked, then one Isolt the White — Sir Tristram of 

low roll the Woods — 

Of autumn thunder, and the jousts Whom Lancelot knew, had held 

began: sometime with pain 

And ever the wind blew, and yellow- His own against him, and now 

ing leaf yearn 'd to shake 

And gloom and gleam, and shower The burthen off his heart in one full 

and shorn plume shock 

Went down it. Sighing weariedly. With Tristram ev'n to death: his 

as one strong hands gript 

Who sits and gazes on a faded fire, And dinted the gilt dragons right and 

When all the goodlier guests are past left, 

away, Until he groan'd for wrath — so 

Sat their great umpire, looking o'er many of those, 

the lists. That ware their ladies' colors on the 

He saw the laws that ruled the tour- casque, 

nament Drew from before Sir Tristram to 

Broken, but spake not; once, a the bounds, 

knight cast down And there with gibes and flickering 

Before his throne of arbitration mockeries 

cursed Stood, while he mutter'd, " Craven 

The dead babe and the follies of the crests! O shame! 

King; What faith have these in whom they 

And once the laces of a helmet sware to love? 

crack'd, The glory of our Round Table is no 

And show'd him, like a vermin in its more." 

hole, 

Modred, a narrow face: anon he So Tristram won, and Lancelot 

heard gave, the gems. 

The voice that billow'd round the Not speaking other word than, 

barriers roar " Hast thou won ? 

An ocean-sounding welcome to one Art thou the purest, brother? See, 

knight, the hand 



3s6 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Wherewith thou takest this, is red ! " But under her black brows a swarthy 

to whom one 

Tristram, half plagued by Lancelot's Laugh'd shrilly, crying, " Praise the 

languorous mood, patient saints, 

Made answer, " Aye, but wherefore Our one white day of Innocence hath 

toss me this past. 

Like a dry bone cast to some hungry Tho' somewhat draggled at the skirt. 

hound? So be it. 

Let be thy fair Queen's fantasy. The snowdrop only, flowering thro' 

Strength of heart the year. 

And might of limb, but mainly use Would make the world as blank as 

and skill. Winter-tide. 

Are winners in this pastime of our Come — let us gladden their sad eyes. 

King. our Queen's 

My hand — belike the lance hath And Lancelot's, at this night's so- 

dript upon it — lemnity 

No blood of mine, I trow; but O With all the kindlier colors of the 

chief knight, field." 
Right arm of Arthur in the battle- 
field. 

Great brother, thou nor I have made So dame and damsel glitter'd at the 

the world ; feast 

Be happy in thy fair Queen as I in Variously gay: for he that tells the 

mine." tale 

Liken'd them, saying, as when an 

And Tristram round the gallery hour of cold 

made his horse Falls on the mountain in midsummer 

Caracole; then bow'd his homage, snows, 

bluntly saying, And all the purple slopes of mountain 

" Fair damsels, each to him who wor- flowers 

ships each Pass under white, till the warm hour 

Sole Queen of Beauty and of love, be- returns 

hold With veer of wind, and all are flow- 

This day my Queen of Beauty is not ers again; 

here." So dame and damsel cast the simple 

And most of these were mute, some white, 

anger'd, one And glowing in all colors, the live 

Murmuring, " All courtesy is dead," grass, 

and one, Rose-campion, bluebell, kingcup, 

" The glory of our Round Table is poppy, glanced 

no more." About the revels, and with mirth so 

loud 

Then fell thick rain, plume droopt Beyond all use, that, half-amazed, the 

and mantle clung, Queen, 
And pettish cries awoke, and the wan And wroth at Tristram and the law- 
day less jousts. 
Went glooming down in wet and Brake up their sports, then slowly to 

weariness: her bower 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 



357 



Parted, and in her bosom pain was For when thou playest that air with 

lord. Queen Isolt, 

Thou makest broken music with thy 
bride, 
And little Dagonet on the morrow Her daintier namesake down in Brit- 
morn, tany — 
High over all the yellowing Autumn- And so thou breakest Arthur's music, 

tide, too." 

Danced like a wither'd leaf before the " Save for that broken music in thy 

hall. brains, 

Then Tristram saying, " Why skip Sir Fool," said Tristram, " I would 

}'e so, Sir Fool? " break thy head. 

Wheel'd round on either heel, Dag- Fool, I came late, the heathen wars 



onet replied, 



were o er. 



"Belike for lack of wiser company; The life had flown, we sware but by 
Or being fool, and seeing too much the shell — 

I am but a fool to reason with a 

fool — 
Come, thou art crabb'd and sour: but 

lean me down. 
Sir Dagonet, one of thy long asses' 

ears. 
And barken if my music be not true. 



wit 

Makes the world rotten, why, belike 
I skip 

To know myself the wisest knight of 
all." 

" Aye, fool," said Tristram, " but 'tis 
eating dry 

To dance without a catch, a rounde- 
lay 

To dance to." Then he twangled 
on his harp. 

And while he twangled little Dag- 
onet stood 

Quiet as any water-sodden log 

Stay'd in the wandering warble of a New leaf, new life — the days of frost 
brook; are o'er: 

But when the twangling ended, skipt New life, new love, to suit the newer 
again ; day : 

And being ask'd, " Why skipt ye not. New loves are sweet as those that 
Sir Fool ? " went before : 

Made answer, " I had liefer twenty Free love — free field — we love but 



" ' Free love — free field — we love 

but while we may: 
The woods are hush'd, their music is 

no more : 
The leaf is dead, the yearning past 

away : 



years 

Skip to the broken music of my 
brains 

Than any broken music thou canst 
make." 

Then Tristram, waiting for the quip 
to come, 

" Good now, what music have I 
broken, fool ? " 

And little Dagonet, skipping, " Ar- 
thur, the King's; 



while we may. 

" Ye might have moved slow-meas- 
ure to my tune. 

Not stood stockstill. I made it in the 
woods. 

And heard it ring as true as tested 
gold." 

But Dagonet with one foot poised 
in his hand. 



358 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



" Friend, did ye mark that fountain 

yesterday 
Made to run wine? — but this had 

run itself 
All out like a long life to a sour 

end — 
And them that round it sat with 

golden cups 
To hand the wine to whosoever 

came — 
The twelve small damsels white as 

Innocence, 
In honor of poor Innocence the 

babe. 
Who left the gems which Innocence 

the Queen 
Lent to the King, and Innocence the 

King 
Gave for a prize — and one of those 

white slips 
Handed her cup and piped, the pretty 

one, 
' Drink, drink, Sir Fool,' and there- 
upon I drank. 
Spat — pish — the cup was gold, the 

draught was mud." 



And Tristram, " Was it muddier 

than thy gibes? 
Is all the laughter gone dead out of 

thee ? — 
Not marking how the knighthood 

mock thee, fool — 
* Fear God : honor the King — his 

one true knight — 
Sole follower of the vows ' — for here 

be they 
Who knew thee swine enow before I 

came. 
Smuttier than blasted grain: but 

when the King 
Had made thee fool, thy vanity so 

shot up 
It frighted all free fool from out thy 

heart; 
Which left thee less than fool, and 

less than swine, 



A naked aught — yet swine I hold 

thee still. 
For I have flung thee pearls and find 

thee swine." 

And little Dagonet mincing with 

his feet, 
" Knight, an ye fling those rubies 

round my neck 
In lieu of hers, I'll hold thou hast 

some touch 
Of music, since I care not for thy 

pearls. 
Swine? I have wallow'd, I have 

wash'd — the world 
Is flesh and shadow — I have had my 

day. 
The dirty nurse. Experience, in her 

kind 
Hath foul'd me — an I wallow'd, 

then I wash'd — 
I have had my day and my philoso- 
phies — 
And thank the Lord I am King Ar- 
thur's fool. 
Swine, say ye? swine, goats, asses, 

rams and geese 
Troop'd round a Paynim harper once, 

who thrumm'd 
On such a wire as musically as thou 
Some such fine song — but never a 

king's fool." 

And Tristram, " Then were swine, 

goats, asses, geese 
The wiser fools, seeing thy Paynim 

bard 
Had such a mastery of his mystery 
That he could harp his wife up out of 

hell." 

Then Dagonet, turning on the ball 

of his foot, 
"And whither harp'st thou thine? 

down ! and thyself 
Down! and two more: a helpful 

harper thou, 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 



359 



That harpest downward ! Dost thou " Aye, aye, my brother fool, the king 

know the star of fools! 

We call the harp of Arthur up in Conceits himself as God that he can 



heaven? " 

And Tristram, " Aye, Sir Fool, for 

when our King 
Was victor well-nigh day by day, the 

knights. 
Glorying in each new glory, set his 

name 
High on all hills, and in the signs of 

heaven." 



make 
Figs out of thistles, silk from bristles, 

milk 
From burning spurge, honey from 

hornet-combs, 
And men from beasts — Long live 

the king of fools! " 



And down the city Dagonet danced 
away ; 
But thro' the slowly-mellowing ave- 
nues 
^"1?T„'^AT'''^' "^^'' ^"^ And solitary passes of the wood 

Rode Tristram toward Lyonnesse and 



when the land 
Was freed, and the Queen false, ye 

set yourself 
To babble about him, all to show 

your wit — 
And whether he were King by cour- 
tesy. 
Or King by right — and so went 

harping down 
The black king's highway, got so far, 

and grew 
So witty that ye play'd at ducks and 

drakes 
With Arthur's vows on the great lake 

of fire. 
Tuwhoo! do ye see it? do ye see the 

star? " 



the west. 
Before him fled the face of Queen 

Isolt 
With ruby-circled neck, but ever- 
more 
Past, as a rustle or twitter in the 

wood 
Made dull his inner, keen his outer 

eye 
For all that walk'd, or crept, or 

perch'd, or flew. 
Anon the face, as, when a gust hath 

blown, 
Unruffling waters re-collect the 

shape 
Of one that in them sees himself, re- 



turn'd; 

" Nay, fool," said Tristram, " not But at the slot or fewmets of a deer, 

in open day." Or ev'n a fall'n feather, vanish'd 

And Dagonet, " Nay, nor will: I see again. 

it and hear. 

It makes a silent music up in So on for all that day from lawn to 

heaven, lawn 

And I, and Arthur and the angels Thro' many a league-long bower he 

hear, rode. At length 

And then we skip." " Lo, fool," he A lodge of intertwisted beechen- 

said, " ye talk boughs 

Fool's treason: is the King thy Furze-cramm'd, and bracken-rooft, 

brother fool?" the which himself 

Then little Dagonet clapt his hands Built for a summer day with Queen 

and shrill'd, Isolt 



36o IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Against a shower, dark in the golden But left her all as easily, and re- 
grove turn'd. 

Appearing, sent his fancy back to The black-blue Irish hair and Irish 

where eyes 

She lived a moon in that low lodge Had drawn him home — what 

with him : marvel ? then he laid 

Till Mark her lord had past, the Cor- His brows upon the drifted leaf and 

nish King, dream'd. 

With six or seven, when Tristram 

was away. ,11- He seem'd to pace the strand of 

And snatch d her thence ; yet dreading t? „, 

, . ' ■' " Brittany 

worse than shame t>. tu i v> -^ • ju- 

TT . ,-j^ . , ^ Between Isolt of Britain and his 

Her warrior 1 ristram, spake not any , . , 

T» TT L- 1- J • • . u J And show'd them both the ruby- 
But bode his hour, devising wretched- , . j u »u 
' ^ chain, and both 

"^^^* Began to struggle for it, till his 

Queen 

.J . J ^ 1 J * Graspt it so hard, that all her hand 

And now that desert lodge to .a 

rj^ • 1 1 * was reQ. 

p 1 u 1^- • u ^ J Then cried the Breton, " Look, her 

So sweet, that halting, in he past, and h d ' d ' 

T^ 1 •/■^ f f 1- J These be no rubies, this is frozen 

Down on a drift of foliage random- , , , 

Ti 1 J ' r • u * And melts within her hand — her 

But could not rest for musing how to u j • u ^ 

, ^ hand is hot 

.,,,,. . ^ ^u With ill desires, but this I gave thee. 

And sleek his marriage over to the , , ' " 

^ "^ look, 

Tj L -1 T-- ^ -1 r r Is all as cool and white as any 

Perchance in lone 1 intagil far from n » 

all '^'^^' 

rr^, ^ ^ r , ^uuj Follow'd a rush of eagle's wings, and 

The tonguesters of the court she had , & t. » 

not heard. » , . . r . • v x -u 

■D^^u u^rii uj ^1,- A whimpering of the spirit of the 

But then what folly had sent him h']^ 

. f ^ . 1 f^ 1 • 1 1 u ■> Because the twain had spoil'd her car- 
After she left him lonely here: a ^ ^ 
o canet. 

name r 

Was it the name of one in Brittany, 

Isolt, the daughter of the King? He dream'd; but Arthur with a 

" Isolt hundred spears 

Of the white hands " they call'd her : Rode far, till o'er the illimitable reed, 
the sweet name And many a glancing plash and sal- 
Allured him first, and then the maid lowy isle, 

herself. The wide-wing'd sunset of the misty 

Who served him well with those marsh 

white hands of hers. Glared on a huge machicolated tower 

And loved him well, until himself had That stood with open doors, where- 
thought out was roll'd 

He loved her also, wedded easily, A roar of riot, as from men secure 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 



361 



Amid their marshes, ruffians at their Sware by the scorpion-worm that 

ease twists in hell, 

Among their harlot-brides, an evil And stings itself to everlasting death. 



song. 
" Lo, there," said one of Arthur's 

youth, for there, 
High on a grim dead tree before the 

tower, 
A goodly brother of the Table Round 
Swung by the neck: and on the 

boughs a shield 
Showing a shower of blood in a field 

noir, 
And there beside a horn, inflamed the 

knights 
At that dishonor done the gilded 

spur, 
Till each would clash the shield, and 

blow the horn. 
But Arthur waved them back. Alone 

he rode. 
Then at the dry harsh roar of the 

great horn, 
That sent the face of all the marsh 

aloft 
An ever upward-rushing storm and 

cloud 
Of shriek and plume, the Red Knight 

heard, and all, 
Even to tipmost lance and topmost 

helm. 
In blood-red armor, sallying, howl'd 

to the King: 



*' The teeth of Hell — flay bare 
and gnash thee flat ! — 

Lo! art thou not that eunuch-hearted 
King 

Who fain had dipt free manhood 
from the world — 

The woman-worshiper? Yea, God's 
curse, and I ! 

Slain was the brother of my para- 
mour 

By a knight of thine, and I that heard 
her whine 

And snivel, being eunuch-hearted, too 



To hang whatever knight of thine I 

fought 
And tumbled. Art thou King? — 

Look to thy life! " 

He ended : Arthur knew the voice ; 

the face 
Well-nigh was helmet-hidden, and 

the name 
Went wandering somewhere darkling 

in his mind. 
And Arthur deign'd not use of word 

or sword. 
But let the drunkard, as he stretch'd 

from horse 
To strike him, overbalancing his 

bulk, 
Down from the causeway heavily to 

the swamp 
Fall, as the crest of some slow-arch- 
ing wave. 
Heard in dead night along that table- 
shore. 
Drops flat, and after the great waters 

break 
Whitening for half a league, and thin 

themselves, 
Far over sands marbled with moon 

and cloud, 
From less and less to nothing; thus 

he fell 
Head-heavy; then the knights, who 

watch 'd him, roar'd 
And shouted and leapt down upon 

the fall'n ; 
There trampled out his face from be- 
ing known, 
And sank his head in mire, and 

slimed themselves: 
Nor heard the King for their own 

cries, but sprang 
Thro' open doors, and swording right 

and left 
Men, women, on their sodden faces, 

hurl'd 



362 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

The tables over and the wines, and I know not what I would " — but 

slew said to her, 

Till all the rafters rang with woman- " Yet weep not thou, lest, if thy mate 

yells, return. 

And all the pavement stream'd with He find thy favor changed and love 

massacre; thee not " — 

Then, echoing yell with yell, they Then pressing day by day thro' Lyon- 

fired the tower, nesse 

Which half that autumn night, like Last in a roky hollow, belling, heard 

the live North, The hounds of Mark, and felt the 
Red-pulsing up thro' Alioth and goodly hounds 

Alcor, Yelp at his heart, but turning, past 
Made all above it, and a hundred and gain'd 

meres Tintagil, half in sea, and high on 
About it, as the water Moab saw land, 

Come round by. the East, and out be- A crown of towers. 

yond them flush'd 
The long low dune, and lazy-plun- Down in a casement sat, 

ging sea. A low sea-sunset glorying round her 

hair 

c^ 11 *u I i And glossy-throated grace, Isolt the 

bo all the ways were safe from A & > 

h t sh Cjueen. 

B^ • ^1 1 .. i A ^i • And when she heard the feet of Tris- 

ut in the heart of Arthur pam was . , 

1 1 tram grmd 

The spiring stone that scaled about 

her tower, 

Then, out of Tristram waking, the Flush'd, started, met him at the 

red dream doors, and there 

Fled with a shout, and that low lodge Belted his body with her white em- 

return'd, brace. 

Mid-forest, and the wind among the Crying aloud, " Not Mark — not 

boughs. Mark, my soul ! 

He whistled his good warhorse left to The footstep flutter'd me at first : not 

graze he : 

Among the forest greens, vaulted Catlike thro' his own castle steals my 

upon him, Mark, 

And rode beneath an ever-showering But warrior-wise thou stridest thro' 

leaf, his halls 

Till one lone woman, weeping near a Who hates thee, as I him — ev'n to 

cross, the death. 

Stay'd him. "Why weep ye?" My soul, I felt my hatred for my 

" Lord," she said, " my man Mark 

Hath left me or is dead;" whereon Quicken within me, and knew that 

he thought — thou wert nigh." 

"What, if she hate me now? I To whom Sir Tristram smiling, "I 

would not this. am here. 

What, if she love me still? I would Let be thy Mark, seeing he is not 

not that. thine." 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 



363 



And drawing somewhat backward 

she replied, 
*' Can he be wrong'd who is not ev'n 

his own, 
But save for dread of thee had beaten 

me, 
Scratch'd, bitten, blinded, marr'd me 

somehow — Mark ? 
What rights are his that dare not 

strike for them? 
Not lift a hand — not, tho' he found 

me thus! 
But harken ! have ye met him ? hence 

he went 
To-day for three days' hunting — as 

he said — 
And so returns belike within an hour. 
Mark's way, my soul ! — but eat not 

thou with Mark, 
Because he hates thee even more than 

fears ; 
Nor drink: and when thou passest 

any wood 
Close vizor, lest an arrow from the 

bush 
Should leave me all alone with Mark 

and hell. 
My God, the measure of my hate for 

Mark 
Is as the measure of my love for 

thee." 

So, pluck'd one way by hate and 

one by love. 
Drain 'd of her force, again she sat, 

and spake 
To Tristram, as he knelt before her, 

saying, 
" O hunter, and O blower of the 

horn. 
Harper, and thou hast been a rover, 

too, 
For, ere I mated with my shambling 

king, 
Ye twain had fallen out about the 

bride 
Of one — his name is out of me — 

the prize, 



If prize she were — (what marvel — 

she could see) — 
Thine, friend ; and ever since my 

craven seeks 
To wreck thee villainously: but, O 

Sir Knight, 
What dame or damsel have ye kneel'd 

to last? " 

And Tristram, " Last to my Queen 

Paramount, 
Here now to my Queen Paramount 

of love 
And loveliness — aye, lovelier than 

when first 
Her light feet fell on our rough Lyon- 

nesse. 
Sailing from Ireland." 

Softly laugh'd Isolt; 
" Flatter me not, for hath not our 

great Queen 
My dole of beauty trebled ? " and he 

said, 
" Her beauty is her beauty, and thine, 

thine. 
And thine is more to me — soft, gra- 
cious, kind — 
Save when thy Mark is kindled on 

thy lips 
Most gracious ; but she, haughty, ev'n 

to him, 
Lancelot; for I have seen him wan 

enow 
To make one doubt if ever the great 

Queen 
Have yielded him her love." 

To whom Isolt, 

" Ah, then, false hunter and false 
harper, thou 

Who brakest thro' the scruple of my 
bond, 

Calling me thy white hind, and say- 
ing to me 

That Guinevere had sinn'd against 
the highest. 



jreet me — fear 
And fault and doubt — no word of 
that fond tale — 



364 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

And I — misyoked with such a want Than having known thee? her, too, 

of man — hast thou left 

That I could hardly sin against the To pine and waste in those sweet 

lowest." memories. 

O were I not my Mark's, by whom 

Tj 'J " /^ 1 u 3II r"^" 

He answer d, U my soul, be com- . , , t u u 1, * *u 

J- J , ' ■' ' Are noble, 1 should hate thee more 

forted! ,, , ,, 

f f ^, . u ^ . • • 1 J- than love. 
If this be sweet, to sm m leadmg- 

y,, 'if J -L u- And Tristram, fondling her light 

If here be comfort, and if ours be sin, u j i- j 

/■^ ,j . u J J. *u hands, replied, 

Crown d warrant had we for the ^/^ A i u ■ 1 ju 

Grace, Oueen, for being loved : she 

crowning sin 1 j n 

AT-1 11 1 u loved me well. 

Ihat made us happy: but how ye t-^., j , u ■> ^u .. 1 .. t 

, ^^^ •' Did 1 love her.'^ the name at least i 

loved. 

Isolt? — I fought his battles, for 

Thy deep heart-yearnings, thy sweet rj., • , / j 1 ^u ,. * o^* 

•^ ^ . ^ b ) J ^^^ night was dark : the true star set. 

memories Tsnlf' 

Of Tristram in that year he was ^j^^ ^^^; ^^,^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^_ 

^^^y- Isolt? 

Care not for her ! patient, and prayer- 

And, saddening on the sudden, ful, meek, 

spake Isolt, Pale-blooded, she will yield herself to 

I had forgotten all in my strong joy God." 

To see thee — j'earnings ? — aye ! for, 

hour by hour, And Isolt answer'd, " Yea, and 

Here in the never-ended afternoon, why not I ? 

O sweeter than all memories of thee. Mine is the larger need, who am not 

Deeper than any yearnings after thee meek, 

Seem'd those far-rolling, westward- Pale-blooded, prayerful. Let me tell 

smiling seas, thee now. 

Watch'd from this tower. Isolt of Here one black, mute midsummer 

Britain dash'd night I sat, 

Before Isolt of Brittany on the Lonely, but musing on thee, wonder- 
strand, ing where, 

Would that have chill'd her bride- Murmuring a light song I had heard 

kiss? Wedded her? thee sing. 

Fought in her father's battles? And once or twice I spake thy name 

wounded there? aloud. 

The King was all fulfiU'd with grate- Then flash'd a levin-brand ; and near 

fulness, me stood, 

And she, my namesake of the hands, In fuming sulphur blue and green, a 

that heal'd fiend — 

Thy hurt and heart with unguent and Mark's way to steal behind one in the 

caress — dark — 

Well — can I wish her any huger For there was Mark: * He has wed- 
wrong ded her,' he said. 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 



365 



Not said, but hiss'd it: then this 

crown of towers 
So shook to such a roar of all the 

sky, 
That here in utter dark I swoon'd 

away, 
And woke again in utter dark, and 

cried, 
' I will flee hence and give myself to 

God'— 
And thou wert lying in thy new le- 

man's arms." 

Then Tristram, ever dallying with 
her hand, 

" May God be with thee, sweet, when 
old and gray. 

And past desire! " a saying that an- 
gered her. 

" ' May God be with thee, sw^eet, 
when thou art old, 

And sweet no more to me! ' I need 
Him now. 

For when had Lancelot utter'd aught 
so gross 

Ev'n to the sw-ineherd's malkin in the 
mast? 

The greater man, the greater cour- 
tesy. 

Far other was the Tristram, Arthur's 
knight ! 

But thou, thro' ever harrying thy wild 
beasts — 

Save that to touch a harp, tilt with a 
lance 

Becomes thee well — art grown wild 
beast thyself. 

How darest thou, if lover, push me 
even 

In fancy from thy side, and set me far 

In the gray distance, half a life awaj^, 

Her to be loved no more ? Unsay it, 
unswear ! 

Flatter me rather, seeing me so weak. 

Broken with Mark and hate and soli- 
tude. 

Thy marriage and mine own, that I 
should suck 



Lies like sweet wines: lie to me: I 

believe. 
Will ye not lie? not swear, as there 

ye kneel, 
And solemnly as when ye sware to 

him. 
The man of men, our King — My 

God, the power 
Was once in vows when men believed 

the King! 
They lied not then, who sware, and 

thro' their vows 
The King prevailing made his 

realm : — I say, 
Swear to me thou wilt love me ev'n 

when old, 
Gray-hair'd, and past desire, and in 

despair." 



Then Tristram, pacing moodily up 

and down, 
"Vows! did you keep the vow you 

made to Mark 
More than I mine? Lied, say ye? 

Nay, but learnt. 
The vow that binds too strictly snaps 

itself — 
My knighthood taught me this — aye, 

being snapt — 
We run more counter to the soul 

thereof 
Than had we never sworn. I swear 

no more. 
I swore to the great King, and am 

forsworn. 
For once — ev'n to the height — I 

honor'd him. 
' Man, is he man at all ? ' methought, 

when first 
I rode from our rough Lyonnesse, and 

beheld 
That victor of the Pagan throned in 

hall — 
His hair, a sun that ray'd from off a 

brow 
Like hill-snow high in heaven, the 

steel-blue eyes, 



366 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

The golden beard that clothed his lips Pulsing full man ; can Arthur make 

with light — me pure 

Moreover, that weird legend of his As any maiden child? lock up my 

birth, tongue 

With Merlin's mystic babble about From uttering freely what I freely 

his end hear? 

Amazed me; then, his foot was on a Bind me to one? The wide world 

stool laughs at it. 

Shaped as a dragon ; he seem'd to me And worldling of the world am I, 

no man, and know 

But Michael trampling Satan; so I The ptarmigan that whitens ere his 

sware, hour 

Being amazed: but this went by — Woos his own end; we are not angels 

The vows! here 

O aye — the wholesome madness of an Nor shall be : vows — I am woodman 

hour — of the woods, 

They served their use, their time; And hear the garnet-headed yaffin- 

for every knight gale 

Believed himself a greater than him- Mock them: my soul, we love but 

self, while we may ; 

And every follower eyed him as a And therefore is my love so large for 

God ; thee, 

Till he, being lifted up beyond him- Seeing it is not bounded save by 

self, love." 
Did mightier deeds than elsewise he 

had done. Here ending, he moved toward her, 

And so the realm was made; but then and she said, 

their vows — " Good : an I turn'd away my love for 

First mainly thro' that sullying of our thee 

Queen — To someone thrice as courteous as 

Began to gall the knighthood, asking thyself — 

whence For courtesy wins woman all as well 

Had Arthur right to bind them to As valor may, but he that closes both 

himself? Is perfect, he is Lancelot — taller 

Dropt down from heaven? wash'd up indeed, 

from out the deep? Rosier and comelier, thou — but say 

They fail'd to trace him thro' the I loved 

flesh and blood This knightliest of all knights, and 

Of our old kings: whence then? a cast thee back 

doubtful lord Thine own small saw, * We love but 

To bind them by inviolable while we may,' 

vows. Well, then, what answer?" 
Which flesh and blood perforce 

would violate: He that while she spake, 

For feel this arm of mine — the tide Mindful of what he brought to adorn 

within her with. 

Red with free chase and heather- The jewels, had let one finger lightly 

scented air, touch 



THE LAST TOURNAMENT 



367 



The warm white apple of her throat, 
replied, 

" Press this a little closer, sweet, un- 
til — 

Come, I am hunger'd and half-an- 
ger'd — meat. 

Wine, wine — and I will love thee 
to the death, 

And out beyond into the dream to 
come." 



Then in the light's last glimmer 

Tristram show'd 
And swung the ruby carcanet. She 

cried, 
" The collar of some Order, which 

our King 
Hath newly founded, all for thee, 

my soul. 
For thee, to yield thee grace beyond 

thy peers." 



So then, when both were brought 

to full accord, 
She rose, and set before him all he 

will'd ; 
And after these had comforted the 

blood 
With meats and wines, and satiated 

their hearts — 
Now talking of their woodland para- 
dise. 
The deer, the dews, the fern, the 

founts, the lawns; 
Now mocking at the much ungainli- 

ness, 
And craven shifts, and long crane 

legs of Mark — 
Then Tristram laughing caught the 

harp, and sang : 



" Aye, aye, O aye — the winds 

that bend the brier! 
A star in heaven, a star within the 

mere! 
Aye, aye, O aye — a star was my de- 
sire, 
And one was far apart, and one was 

near: 
Aye, aye, O aye — the winds that 

bow the grass! 
And one was water and one star was 

fire. 
And one will ever shme and one will 

pass. 
Aye, aye, O aye — the winds that 

move the mere." 



" Not so, my Queen," he said, 
" but the red fruit 

Grown on a magic oak-tree in mid- 
heaven, 

And won by Tristram as a tourney- 
prize. 

And hither brought by Tristram for 
his last 

Love-offering and peace-offering unto 
thee." 

He spoke, he turn'd, then, fling- 
ing round her neck, 

Claspt it, and cried, " Thine Order, 
O my Queen! " 

But, while he bow'd to kiss the jew- 
el'd throat, 

Out of the dark, just as the lips had 
touch'd, 

Behind him rose a shadow and a 
shriek — 

" Mark's way," said Mark, and clove 
him thro' the brain. 

That night came Arthur home, and 

while he climb'd. 
All in a death-dumb autumn-dripping 

gloom. 
The stairway to the hall, and look'd 

and saw 
The great Queen's bower was dark, — 

about his feet 
A voice clung sobbing till he ques- 

tion'd it, 
"What art thou?" and the voice 

about his feet 



368 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Sent up an answer, sobbing, " I am For thus it chanced one morn when 

thy fool, all the court, 

And I shall never make thee smile Green-suited, but with plumes that 

again." mock'd the may, 

Had been, their wot, a-maying and 
return'd, 

GUINEVERE That Modred still in green, all ear 

and eye. 
Queen Guinevere had fled the Climb'd to the high top of the gar- 
court, and sat den-wall 
There in the holy house at Almes- To spy some secret scandal if he 

bury might. 

Weeping, none with her save a little And saw the Queen who sat betwixt 

maid, her best 

A novice : one low light betwixt them Enid, and lissome Vivien, of her 

burn'd court 

Blurr'd by the creeping mist, for all The wiliest and the worst; and more 

aboard, than this 

Beneath a moon unseen albeit at full, He saw not, for Sir Lancelot passing 

The white mist, like a face-cloth to by 

the face, Spied where he couch'd, and as the 

Clung to the dead earth, and the gardener's hand 

land was still. Picks from the colewort a green cater- 
pillar, 

For hither had she fled, her cause So from the high wall and the flower- 

of flight ing grove 

Sir Modred; he that like a subtle Of grasses Lancelot pluck'd him by 

beast the heel. 

Lay couchant with his eyes upon the And cast him as a worm upon the 

throne, way ; 

Ready to spring, waiting a chance: But when he knew the Prince tho' 

for this marr'd with dust, 

He chill'd the popular praises of the He, reverencing king's blood in a 

King bad man. 

With silent smiles of slow disparage- Made such excuses as he might, and 

ment; these 

And tamper'd with the Lords of the Full knightly without scorn; for in 

White Horse, those days 

Heathen, the brood by Hengist left; No knight of Arthur's noblest dealt 

and sought in scorn; 

To make disruption in the Table But, if a man were halt or hunch'd. 

Round in him 
Of Arthur, and to splinter it into By those whom God had made full- 
feuds limb'd and tall, 
Servmg his traitorous end; and all Scorn was allow'd as part of his de- 

his aims feet. 

Were sharpen'd by strong hate for And he was answer'd softly by the 

Lancelot. King 




I SHALL NBVER MAKS THEE SMILE AGAIN' " — Page 368 



GUINEVERE 369 

And all his Table. So Sir Lancelot In the dead night, grim faces came 

holp and went 

To raise the Prince, who rising twice Before her, or a vague spiritual 

or thrice fear — 
Full sharply smote his knees, and Like to some doubtful noise of creak- 
smiled, and went: ing doors. 
But, ever after, the small violence Heard by the watcher in a haunted 

done house. 

Rankled in him and ruffled all his That keeps the rust of murder on the 

heart, walls — 

As the sharp wind that ruffles all day Held her awake: or if she slept she 

long dream'd 

A little bitter pool about a stone An awful dream; for then she seem'd 

On the bare coast. to stand 

On some vast plain before a setting 
sun. 

But when Sir Lancelot told And from the sun there swiftly made 

This matter to the Queen, at first she at her 

laugh'd A ghastly something, and its shadow 

Lightly, to think of Modred's dusty flew 

fall. Before it, till it touch'd her, and she 

Then shudder'd as the village wife turn'd — 

who cries When lo! her own, that broadening 

" I shudder, some one steps across my from her feet, 

grave;" And blackening, swallow'd all the 

Then laugh'd again, but faintlier, for land, and in it 

indeed Far cities burnt, and with a cry she 

She half-foresaw that he, the subtle woke. 

beast. And all this trouble did not pass but 

Would track her guilt until he found, grew; 

and hers Till ev'n the clear face of the guileless 

Would be for evermore a name of King, 

scorn. And trustful courtesies of household 

Henceforward rarely could she front life, 

in hall. Became her bane; and at the last she 

Or elsewhere, Modred's narrow foxy said, 

face, " O Lancelot, get thee hence to thine 

Heart-hiding smile, and gray persist- own land, 

ent eye: For if thou tarry we shall meet 

Henceforward too, the Powers that again, 

tend the soul. And if we meet again, some evil 

To help it from the death that cannot chance 

die. Will make the smoldering scandal 

And save it even in extremes, began break and blaze 

To vex and plague her. Many a Before the people, and our lord the 

time for hours, King." 
Beside the placid breathings of the And Lancelot ever promised, but re- 
King, main'd, 



370 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



And still they met and met. Again 
she said, 

" O Lancelot, if thou love me get thee 
hence." 

And then the)^ were agreed upon a 

night 
(When the good King should not be 
there) to meet 

And part for ever. Vivien, lurking, 
heard. 

She told Sir Modred. Passion-pale 
they met 

And greeted. Hands in hands, and 
eye to eye 

Low on the border of her couch they 
sat 

Stammering and staring. It was 
their last hour, 

A madness of farewells. And Mod- 
red brought 

His creatures to the basement of the 
tower 

For testimony; and crying with full 
voice 

" Traitor, come out, ye are trapt at 
last," aroused 

Lancelot, who rushing outward lion- 
like 

Leapt on him, and hurl'd him head- 
long, and he fell 

Stunn'd, and his creatures took and 
bare him off. 

And all was still : then she, " The end 
is come. 

And I am shamed for ever; " and he 
said, 

"Mine be the shame; mine was the 
sin : but rise, 

And fly to my strong castle over- 
seas: 

There will I hide thee, till my life 
shall end. 

There hold thee with my life against 
the world." 

She answer'd, " Lancelot, wilt thou 
hold me so? 

Nay, friend, for we have taken our 
farewells. 



Would God that thou couldst hide 

me from myself! 
Mine is the shame, for I was wife, 

and thou 
Unwedded: yet rise now, and let us 

For I will draw me into sanctuary, 
And bide my doom." So Lancelot 

got her horse. 
Set her thereon, and mounted on his 

own, 
And then they rode to the divided 

way, ^ 
There kiss'd, and parted weeping: for 

he past. 
Love-loyal to the least wish of the 

Queen, 
Back to his land ; but she to Almes- 

bury 
Fled all night long by glimmering 

waste and weald. 
And heard the Spirits of the waste 

and weald 
Moan as she fled, or thought she 

heard them moan : 
And in herself she moan'd " Too 

late, too late ! " 
Till in the cold wind that foreruns 

the morn, 
A blot in heaven, the Raven, flying 

high, 
Croak'd, and she thought, " He spies 

a field of death ; 
For now the Heathen of the North- 
ern Sea, 
Lured by the crimes and frailties of 

the court. 
Begin to slay the folk, and spoil the 

land." 

And when she came to Almesbury 
she spake 

There to the nuns, and said, " Mine 
enemies 

Pursue me, but, O peaceful Sister- 
hood, 

Receive, and yield me sanctuary, nor 
ask 



GUINEVERE 



371 



Her name to whom ye yield it, till Whereat full willingly sang the little 

her time ^^ niaid. 

To tell you : " and her beauty, grace 



and power, 
Wrought as a cliarm upon them, and 

they spared 
To ask it. 



So the stately Queen abode 
For many a week, unknown, among 
the nuns; 



" Late, late, so late! and dark the 

night and chill! 
Late, late, so late! but we can enter 

still. 
Too late, too late! ye cannot enter 

now. 

" No light had we : for that we do 
repent ; 

ni 



Nor with them mix'd, nor told her And learning this, the bridegroo 

name, nor sought, will relent. 

Wrapt in her grief, for house! or for Too late, too late! ye cannot enter 

shrift, now. 

But communed only with the little 



maid, 

Who pleased her with a babbling 
heedlessness 



" No light : so late ! and dark and 
chill the night! 



now. 



wTu- u i. 1 J u j: u u O let us in, that we may find the 
Which often lured her from herself; IiVht' 

T-, . . , , ' .,,, ,, Too late, too late: ye cannot enter 

1 his night, a rumor wildly blown 

about 
Came, that Sir Modred had usurp'd 

the realm, 
And leagued him with the heathen, 

while the King 



" Have we not heard the bride- 
groom is so sweet ? 
O let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet! 

Was waging Var 'on Lancelot: then N°' _"°: ,^°" ^^^^' V^ '^^""^^ e"^«^^ 
she thought. 



" With what a hate the people and 

the King 
Must hate me," and bow'd down 

upon her hands 
Silent, until the little maid, who 

brook'd 
No silence, brake it, uttering " Late ! 

so late! 
What hour, I wonder, now?" and 

when she drew 
No answer, by and by began to hum 
An air the nuns had taught her; 

" Late, so late! " 
Which when she heard, the Queen 

look'd up, and said, 
O maiden, if indeed ye list to sing. 



So sang the novice, while full pas- 
sionately, 

Her head upon her hands, remember- 
ing 

Her thought when first she came, 
wept the sad Queen. 

Then said the little novice prattling 
to her, 

" O pray j^ou, noble lady, weep no 

more ; 
But let my words, the words of one so 

small, 
Who knowing nothing knows but to 

obey, 



Sing, and unbind my heart that I may And if I do not there is penance 
weep," given — 



372 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Comfort your sorrows; for they do 

not flow 
From evil done; right sure am I of 

that, 
Who see your tender grace and state- 

liness. 
But weigh your sorrows with our lord 

the King's, 
And weighing find them less; for 

gone is he 
To wage grim war against Sir Lance- 
lot there, 
Round that strong castle where he 

holds the Queen ; 
And Modred whom he left in charge 

of all, 
The traitor — Ah sweet lady, the 

King's grief 
For his own self, and his own Queen, 

and realm, 
Must needs be thrice as great as any 

of ours. 
For me, I thank the saints, I am not 

great. 
For if there ever come a grief to me 
I cry my cry in silence, and have 

done. 
None knows it, and my tears have 

brought me good : 
But even were the griefs of little ones 
As great as those of great ones, yet 

this grief 
Is added to the griefs the great must 

bear. 
That howsoever much they may de- 
sire 
Silence, they cannot weep behind a 

cloud : 
As even here they talk at Almesbury 
About the good King and his wicked 

Queen, 
And were I such a King with such a 

Queen, 
Well might I wish to veil her wicked- 
ness. 
But were I such a King, it could not 

be." 



Then to her own sad heart mut- 
ter'd the Queen, 
" Will the child kill me with her in- 
nocent talk? " 
But openly she answer'd, " Must not 

?' . . . 

If this false traitor have displaced his 

lord. 
Grieve with the common grief of all 
the realm ? " 

" Yea," said the maid, " this is all 
woman's grief. 

That she is woman, whose disloyal 
life 

Hath wrought confusion in the Table 
Round 

Which good King Arthur founded, 
years ago. 

With signs and miracles and wond- 
ers, there 

At Camelot, ere the coming of the 
Queen." 

Then thought the Queen within 
herself again, 

" Will the child kill me with her fool- 
ish prate? " 

But openly she spake and said to 
her, 

" O little maid, shut in by nunnery 
walls. 

What canst thou know of King and 
Tables Round, 

Or what of signs and wonders, but 
the signs 

And simple miracles of thy nun- 
nery?" 

To whom the little novice garru- 
lously, 

" Yea, but I know: the land was full 
of signs 

And wonders ere the coming of the 
Queen. 

So said my father, and himself was 
knight 



GUINEVERE 



373 



Of the great Table — at the founding Flying, for all the land was full of 

of it; life. 

And rode thereto from Lyonnesse, And when at last he came to Came- 

and he said lot, 

That as he rode, an hour or maybe A wreath of airy dancers hand-in- 

twain hand 

After the sunset, down the coast, he Swung round the lighted lantern of 

heard the hall ; 

Strange music, and he paused, and And in the hall itself was such a feast 

turning — there, As never man had dream'd; for every 
AH down the lonely coast of Lyon- knight 



nesse. 
Each with a beacon-star upon his 

head, 
And with a wild sea-light about his 

feet, 
He saw them — headland after head- 
land flame 
Far on into the rich heart of the 

west: 
And in the light the white mer- 

maiden swam, 
And strong man-breasted things stood 

from the sea, 
And sent a deep sea-voice thro' all 

the land, 
To which the little elves of chasm 

and cleft 



Had whatsoever meat he long'd for 

served 
By hands unseen ; and even as he 

said 
Down in the cellars merry bloated 

things 
Shoulder'd the spigot, straddling on 

the butts 
While the wine ran: so glad were 

spirits and men 
Before the coming of the sinful 

Queen." 



Then spake the Queen and some- 
what bitterly, 
" Were they so glad ? ill prophets 

Made answer, sounding like a distant o • • 111 i- 1. 

1 bpirits and men: could none or them 



horn 

So said my father — yea, and further- 
more. 

Next morning, while he past the dim- 
lit woods, 

Himself beheld three spirits mad with 
joy 

Come dashing down on a tall wayside 
flower, 



foresee, 
Not even thy wise father with his 

signs 
And wonders, what has fall'n upon 

the realm? " 

To whom the novice garrulously 
again. 
That shook beneath them, as the this- " Yea, one, a bard ; of whom my fa- 

tle shakes ther said. 

When three gray linnets wrangle for Full many a noble war-song had he 

the seed: sung, 

And still at evenings on before his Ev'n in the presence of an enemy's 

horse fleet, 

T'he flickering fairy-circle wheel'd Between the steep cliff and the com- 

and broke ing wave ; 

Tlying, and link'd again, and wheel'd And many a mystic lay of life and 

and broke death 



374 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Had chanted on the smoky mountain- 
tops, 
When round him bent the spirits of 

the hills 
With all their dewy hair blown back 

like flame: 
So said my father — and that night 

the bard 
Sang Arthur's glorious wars, and sang 

the King 
As well-nigh more than man, and 

rail'd at those 
•Who call'd him the false son of Gor- 

lois : 
For there was no man knew from 

whence he came; 
But after tempest, when the long 

wave broke 
All down the thundering shores of 

Bude and Bos, 
There came a day as still as heaven, 

and then 
They found a naked child upon the 

sands 
Of dark Tintagil by the Cornish 

sea; 
And that was Arthur; and they fos- 

ter'd him 
Till he by miracle was approven 

King: _ 
And that his grave should be a mys- 
tery 
From all men, like his birth; and 

could he find 
A woman in her womanhood as great 
As he was in his manhood, then, he 

sang, _ 
The twain together well might 

change the world. 
But even in the middle of his song 
He falter'd, and his hand fell from 

the harp, 
And pale he turn'd, and reel'd, and 

would have fall'n, 
But that they stay'd him up ; nor 

would he tell 
His vision ; but what doubt that he 

foresaw 



This evil work of Lancelot and the 
Queen?" 

Then thought the Queen, " Lo 1 
they have set her on. 

Our simple-seeming Abbess and her 
nuns, 

To play upon me," and bow'd her 
head nor spake. 

Whereat the novice crying, with 
clasp'd hands. 

Shame on her own garrulity garru- 
lously. 

Said the good nuns would check her 
gadding tongue 

Full often, " and, sweet lady, if I 
seem 

To vex an ear too sad to listen to 
me. 

Unmannerly, with prattling and the 
tales 

Which my good father told me, check 
me too 

Nor let me shame my father's mem- 
ory, one 

Of noblest manners, tho' himself 
would say 

Sir Lancelot had the noblest; and he 
died, 

Kill'd in a tilt, come next, five sum- 
mers back. 

And left me; but of others who re- 
main, 

And of the two first-famed for cour- 
tesy — 

And pray you check me if I ask 
amiss — 

But pray you, which had noblest, 
while you moved 

Among them, Lancelot or our lord 
the King?" 

Then the pale Queen look'd up and 

answer'd her, 
" Sir Lancelot, as became a noble 

knight, 
Was gracious to all ladies, and the 

same 



GUINEVERE 



375 



In open battle or the tilting-field So she, like many another babbler, 

Forbore his own advantage, and the hurt 

King Whom she would soothe, and harm'd 

In open battle or the tilting-field where she would heal ; 

Forbore his own advantage, and these For here a sudden flush of wrathful 

two heat 

Were the most nobly-manner'd men Fired all the pale face of the Queen, 

of all ; who cried, 

For manners are not idle, but the " Such as thou art be never maiden 

fruit more 

Of loyal nature, and of noble mind." For ever! thou their tool, set on to 

plague 

" Yea," said the maid, " be manners ^"^ P^^^ "PO". ^n^ harry me, petty 

such fair fruit? ^PV 

Then Lancelot's needs must be a -^"^ traitress." When that storm of 

thousand-fold anger brake 

Less noble, being, as all rumor runs, ^^om Guinevere, aghast the maiden 

The most disloyal friend in all the rose, 

world." White as her veil, and stood before 

the Queen 

Tr. „.v,,VK „ ^^i ^ J As tremulously as foam upon the 

1 o which a mournful answer made u i 

.1 r^ beach 

the Queen: c^ j • • j , i , i 

" r» ^i^^o^ „u^ *■ u ■ btands m a wmd, ready to break and 

(J closed about by narrowmg nun- n 



nery-walls, 



fly, 



What knowest 'thou of the world, and And vvhen the Queen had added 

all its IVhf hence, 

Ar^A cV,o^^,.,o „n 4.U 1..U J 11 Fled frighted. Then that other left 

And shadows, all the wealth and all i 

4.U 5 alone 

the woe.f* c- u»j j i. l i 

Tf „, ^^ T 1 ^ *i, ^ . Li ^'gn d, and began to gather heart 

It ever Lancelot, that most noble *= ' . ^ ^ 

^^7^^^ (^^ \^^ u 1 ui .u Saying in herself, " The simple, fear- 
Were tor one hour less noble than r i i -i i 

1 • If ful child 

himself, ,, 1-1 r 

p^o., i^^ u-^ -u .. u ..u J Meant nothing, but my own too-fear- 

rray tor him that he scape the doom r i -i^ ^ 

of fire . ^"^^ S""'^^' 

A„ 1 „,^^„ V u u J u- ^ Simpler than any child, betrays itself. 

And weep for her who drew him to t? .. i i i r it 

his doom " P '■"^' "^^ven, for surely I 

repent. 
For what is true repentance but in 

"Yea," said the little novice, "I thought — 

pray for both; Not ev'n in inmost thought to think 

But I should all as soon believe that again 

his. The sins that made the past so pleas- 
Sir Lancelot's, were as noble as the ant to us: 

Kings, ^ And I have sworn never to see him 

As I could think, sweet lady, yours more, 

would be To see him more." 
Such as they are, were you the sinful 

Q^c^n* And ev'n in saying this, 



376 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Her memory from old habit of the Her journey done, glanced at him,, 

mind thought him cold, 

Went slipping back upon the golden High, self-contain'd, and passionless,. 

days not like him, 

In which she saw him first, when " Not like my Lancelot " — while she 

Lancelot came, brooded thus 

Reputed the best knight and goodliest And grew half-guilty in her thoughts 

man, again. 

Ambassador, to lead her to his lord There rode an armed warrior to the 
Arthur, and led her forth, and far doors. 

ahead A murmuring whisper thro' the nun- 
Of his and her retinue moving, they, nery ran. 

Rapt in sweet talk or lively, all on Then on a sudden a cry, " The King." 

love She sat 

And sport and tilts and pleasure (for Stiff-stricken, listening; but when 

the time armed feet 

Was maytime, and as yet no sin was Thro' the long gallery from the outer 

dream'd), doors 

Rode under groves that look'd a par- Rang commg, prone from off her seat 

adise she fell, 

Of blossom, over sheets of hyacinth And grovel'd with her face against 
That seem'd the heavens upbreaking the floor: 

thro' the earth. There with her milkwhite arms and 
And on from hill to hill, and every shadowy hair 

day She made her face a darkness from 
Beheld at noon in some delicious dale the King: 

The silk pavilions of King Arthur And in the darkness heard his armed 

raised feet 

For brief repast or afternoon repose Pause by her; then came silence, then 
By couriers gone before ; and on a voice, 

agam. Monotonous and hollow like a 
Till yet once more ere set of sun they Ghost's 

saw Denouncing judgment, but tho* 
The Dragon of the great Pendragon- changed, the King's: 

ship, 
That crown'd state pavilion of the 

King, " Liest thou here so low, the child 

Blaze by the rushing brook or silent of one 

well. I honor'd, happy, dead before thy 

shame ? 

But when the Queen immersed in Well is it that no child is born of 

such a trance, thee. 

And moving thro' the past uncon- The children born of thee are sword 

sciously, and fire, 

Came to that point where first she Red ruin, and the breaking up of 

saw the King laws, 

Ride toward her from the city, sigh'd The craft of kindred and the Godless 

to find hosts 



GUINEVERE 377 

Of heathen swarming o'er the North- That I the King should greatly care 

ern Sea; to live; 

Whom I, while yet Sir Lancelot, my For thou hast spoilt the purpose of 

right arm, my life. 

The mightiest of my knights, abode Bear with me for the last time while 

with me, I show, 

Have everywhere about this land of Ev'n for thy sake, the sin which thou 

Christ hast sinn'd. 

In twelve great battles ruining over- For when the Roman left us, and 

thrown. their law 

And knovvest thou now from whence Relax'd its hold upon us, and the 

I come — from him, ways 

From waging bitter war with him: Were fill'd with rapine, here and 

and he, there a deed 

That did not shun to smite me in Of prowess done redress'd a random 

worse way, wrong. 

Had yet that grace of courtesy in him But I was first of all the kings who 

left, drew 

He spared to lift his hand against The knighthood-errant of this realm 

the King and all 

Who made him knight: but many a The realms together under me, their 

knight was slain ; Head, 

And many more, and all his kith and In that fair Order of my Table 

kin Round, 

Clave to him, and abode in his own A glorious company, the flower of 

land. men. 

And many more when Modred raised To serve as model for the mighty 

revolt, world 

Forgetful of their troth and fealty, And be the fair beginning of a time. 

clave I made them lay their hands in mine 

To Modred, and a remnant stays and swear 

with me. To reverence the King, as if he 

And of this remnant will I leave a were 

part, Their conscience, and their conscience 

True men who love me still, for as their King, 

whom I live. To break the heathen and uphold the 

To guard thee in the wild hour com- Christ, 

ing on, To ride abroad redressing human 

Lest but a hair of this low head be wrongs, 

harm'd. To speak no slander, no, nor listen to 

Fear not: thou shalt be guarded till it, 

my death. To honor his own word as if his 

Howbeit I know, if ancient prophe- God's, 

cies To lead sweet lives in purest chastity. 

Have err'd not, that I march to meet To love one maiden only, cleave to 

m}^ doom. her, 

Thou hast not made my life so sweet And worship her by years of noble 

to me, deeds. 



378 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Until they won her; for indeed I For which of us, who might be left, 

knew could speak 

Of no more subtle master under Of the pure heart, nor seem to glance 

heaven at thee? 

Than is the maiden passion for a And in thy bowers of Camelot or of 

maid, Usk 

Not only to keep down the base in Thy shadow still would glide from 

man, room to room, 

But teach high thought, and amiable And I should evermore be vext with 

words thee 

And courtliness, and the desire of In hanging robe or vacant ornament, 

fame. Or ghostly footfall echoing on the 

And love of truth, and all that makes stair. 

a man. For think not, tho' thou wouldst not 

And all this throve before I wedded love thy lord, 

thee. Thy lord hast wholly lost his love for 

Believing, * lo mine helpmate, one to thee, 

feel I am not made of so slight ele- 

My purpose and rejoicing in my ments. 

joy.' Yet must I leave thee, woman, to thy 

Then came thy shameful sin with shame. 

Lancelot; I hold that man the worst of public 

Then came the sin of Tristram and foes 

Isolt ; Who either for his own or children's 

Then others, following these my sake, 

mightiest knights, To save his blood from scandal, lets 

And drawing foul ensample from fair the wife 

names. Whom he knows false, abide and rule 

Sinn'd also, till the loathsome oppo- the house: 

site For being thro' his cowardice allow'd 

Of all my heart had destined did Her station, taken everj-where for 

obtain, pure. 

And all thro' thee! so that this life She h'ke a new disease, unknown to 

of mine men, 

I guard as God's high gift from Creeps, no precaution used, among 

scathe and wrong, the crowd, 

Not greatly care to lose; but rather Makes wicked lightnings of her eyes, 

think and saps 

How sad it were for Arthur, should The fealty of our friends, and stirs 

he live, the pulse 

To sit once more within his lonely With devil's leaps, and poisons half 

hall, the young. 

And miss the wonted number of my Worst of the worst were that man he 

knights, that reigns! 

And miss to hear high talk of noble Better the King's waste hearth and 

deeds aching heart 

As in the golden days before thy Than thou reseated in thy place of 

sin. light. 



GUINEVERE 379 

The mockery of my people, and their Until it came a kingdom's curse with 

bane." thee — 

I cannot touch thy lips, they are not 

He paused, and in the pause she mine, 

crept an inch But Lancelot's: nay, they never were 

Nearer, and laid her hands about his the King's. 

feet. I cannot take thy hand; that too is 

Far off a solitary trumpet blew. flesh, 

Then waiting by the doors the war- And in the flesh thou hast sinn'd ; and 

horse neigh'd mine own flesh, 

As at a friend's voice, and he spake Here looking down on thine polluted, 

again : cries 

' I loathe thee : ' yet not less, O 

" Yet think not that I come to Guinevere, 

urge thy crimes. For I was ever virgin save for thee, 

I did not come to curse thee, Guine- My love thro' flesh hath wrought into 

vere, my life 

I, whose vast pity almost makes me So far, that my doom is, I love thee 

die still. 

To see thee, laying there thy golden Let no man dream but that I love 

head, thee still. 

My priile in happier summers, at my Perchance, and so thou purify thy 

feet. soul, 

The wrath which forced my thoughts And so thou lean on our fair father 

on that fierce law, Christ, 

The doom of treason and the flaming Hereafter in that world where all are 

death pure 

(When first I learnt thee hidden We two may meet before high God, 

here), is past. and thou 

The pang — which while I weigh'd Wilt spring to me, and claim me 

thy heart with one thine, and know 

Too wholly true to dream untruth in I am thine husband — not a smaller 

thee, soul. 

Made my tears burn — is also past — Nor Lancelot, nor another. Leave 

in part. me that, 

And all is past, the sin is sinn'd, I charge thee, my last hope. Now 

and I, must I hence. 

Lo! I forgive thee, as Eternal God Thro' the thick night I hear the 

Forgives: do thou for thine own soul trumpet blow: 

the rest. They summon me their King to lead 

But how to take last leave of all I mine hosts 

loved? Far down to that great battle in the 

O golden hair, with which I used to west, 

play Where I must strike against the man 

Not knowing! O imperial-molded they call 

form, My sister's son — no kin of mine, 

And beauty such as never woman who leagues 

wore, 



38o 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



With Lords of the White Horse, 
heathen, and knights, 

Traitors — and strike him dead, and 
meet myself 

Death, or I know not what mysteri- 
ous doom. 

And thou remaining here wilt learn 
the event; 

But hither shall I never come again, 

Never lie by thy side; see thee no 
more — 

Farewell ! " 

And while she grovel'd at his feet, 
She felt the King's breath wander 

o'er her neck, 
And in the darkness o'er her fallen 

head. 
Perceived the waving of his hands 

that blest. 

Then, listening till those armed 

steps were gone, 
Rose the pale Queen, and in her 

anguish found 
The casement: " peradventure," so 

she thought, 
"If I might see his face, and not 

be seen." 
And lo, he sat on horseback at the 

door! 
And near him the sad nuns with each 

a light 
Stood, and he gave them charge 

about the Queen, 
To guard and foster her for ever- 
more. 
And while he spake to these his helm 

was lower'd, 
To which for crest the golden dragon 

clung 
Of Britain; so she did not see the 

face, 
Which then was as an angel's, but 

she saw'. 
Wet with the mists and smitten by 

the lights, 



The Dragon of the great Pendragon- 

ship 
Blaze, making all the night a steam 

of fire. 
And even then he turn'd ; and more 

and more 
The moony vapor rolling round the 

King, 
Who seem'd the phantom of a Giant 

in it, 
Enwound him fold by fold, and made 

him gray 
And grayer, till himself became as 

mist 
Before her, moving ghostlike to his 

doom. 

Then she stretch'd out her arms 

and cried aloud 
" Oh Arthur! " there her voice brake 

suddenly, 
Then — as a stream that spouting 

from a cliff 
Fails in mid air, but gathering at the 

base 
Re-makes itself, and flashes down the 

vale — 
Went on in passionate utterance: 

"Gone — my lord! 
Gone thro' my sin to slay and to be 

slain ! 
And he forgave me, and I could not 

speak. 
Farewell ? I should have answer'd 

his farewell. 
His mercy choked me. Gone, my 

lord the King, 
My own true lord! how dare I call 

him mine? 
The shadow of another cleaves to me, 
And makes me one pollution : he, the 

King, 
Call'd me polluted : shall I kill my- 
self? 
What help in that? I cannot kill 

my sin, 




YEA, LITTLE MAID, FOR AM I NOT FORGIVEN?'" Page 381 



GUINEVERE 



38' 



If soul be soul; nor can I kill my 

shame ; 
No, nor by living can I live it 

down. 
The days will grow to weeks, the 

weeks to months, 
The months will add themselves and 

make the years, 
The years will roll into the centuries. 
And mine will ever be a name of 

scorn. 
I must not dwell on that defeat of 

fame. 
Let the world be; that is but of 

the world ; 
What else? what hope? I think 

there was a hope, 
Except he mock'd me when he spake 

of hope; 
His hope he call'd it ; but he never 

mocks. 
For mockery is the fume of little 

hearts. 
And blessed be the King, who hath 

forgiven 
My wickedness to him, and left me 

hope 
That in mine own heart I can live 

down sin 
And be his mate hereafter in the 

heavens 
Before high God. Ah great and 

gentle lord. 
Who wast, as is the conscience of a 

saint 
Among his warring senses, to thy 

knights — 
To whom my false voluptuous pride, 

that took 
Full easily all impressions from 

below. 
Would not look up, or half-despised 

the height 
To which I would not or I could not 

climb — 
I thought I could not breathe in that 

fine air 
That pure severity of perfect light — 



I yearn'd for warmth and color which 

I found 
In Lancelot — now I see thee what 

thou art, 
Thou art the highest and most human 

too. 
Not Lancelot, nor another. Is there 

none 
Will tell the King I love him tho' 

so late? 
Now — ere he goes to the great Bat- 
tle? none: 
Myself must tell him in that purer 

life, 
But now it were too daring. Ah my 

God, 
What might I not have made of thy 

fair world. 
Had I but loved thy highest creature 

here? 
It was my duty to have loved the 

highest : 
It surely was my profit had I known : 
It would have been my pleasure had 

I seen. 
We needs must love the highest when 

we see it. 
Not Lancelot, nor another." 

Here her hand 

Grasp'd, made her vail her eyes: she 
look'd and saw 

The novice, weeping, suppliant, and 
said to her, 

" Yea, little maid, for am / not for- 
given? " 

Then glancing up beheld the holy 
nuns 

All round her, weeping; and her 
heart was loosed 

Within her, and she wept with these 
and said, 

" Ye know me then, that wicked 
one, who broke 
The vast design and purpose of the 

Kin;?". 



382 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

shut me round with narrowing And treat their loathsome hurts and 

nunnery-walls, heal mine own; 

Meek maidens, from the voices cry- And so wear out in almsdeed and in 

ing ' shame.' prayer 

1 must not scorn myself: he loves The somber close of that voluptuous 

me still. day, 

Let no one dream but that he loves Which wrought the ruin of my lord 

me still. the King." 
So let me, if you do not shudder at 

me, 

Nor shun to call me sister, dwell She said: they took her to them- 

with you ; selves ; and she 

Wear black and white, and be a nun Still hoping, fearing " is it yet too 

like you, late? " 

Fast with your fasts, not feasting Dwelt with them, till in time their 

with your feasts; Abbess died. 

Grieve with your griefs, not grieving Then she, for her good deeds and 

at your joys, her pure life. 

But not rejoicing; mingle with your And for the power of ministration in 

rites; her, 

Pray and be pray'd for; lie before And likewise for the high rank she 

your shrines; had borne. 

Do each low office of j^our holy Was chosen Abbess, there, an Abbess, 

house ; lived 

Walk your dim cloister, and dis- For three brief years, and there, an 

tribute dole Abbess, past 

To poor sick people, richer in His To where beyond these voices there 

eyes is peace. 
Who ransom'd us and haler too than 

End of " The Round Table. 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 

That story which the bold Sir Bedi- Who slowly paced among the slum- 

vere, bering host. 

First made and latest left of all the Heard in his tent the moanings of 

knights, the King: 
Told, when the man was no more 

than a voice " I found Him in the shining of 

In the white winter of his age, to the stars, 

those I mark'd Him in the flowering of 

With whom he dwelt, new faces. His fields, 

other minds. But in His ways with men I find 

Him not. 

For on their march to westward, I waged His wars, and now I pass 

Bedivere, and die. 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 383 

O me! for whj^ is all around us here And fainter onward, like wild birds 

As if some lesser god had made the that change 

^vorld, Their season in the night and wail 

But had not force to shape it as he their way 

would, From cloud to cloud, down the long 

Till the High God behold it from wind the dream 

beyond, Shrill'd ; but in going mingled with 

And enter it, and make it beautiful? dim cries 

Or else as if the world were wholly Far in the moonlit haze among the 

fair, hills. 

But that these eyes of men are dense As of some lonely city sack'd by night, 

and dim. When all is lost, and wife and child 

And have not power to see it as it is: with wail 

Perchance, because we see not to the Pass to new lords; and Arthur woke 

close; — and call'd. 

For I, being simple, thought to work "Who spake? A dream, O light 

His will, upon the wind. 

And have but stricken with the sword Thine, Gawain, was the voice — are 

in vain; these dim cries 

And all whereon I lean'd in wife and Thine? or doth all that haunts the 

friend waste and wild 

Is traitor to my peace, and all my Mourn, knowing it will go along 

realm with me? " 
Reels back into the beast, and is no 

more. This heard the bold Sir Bedivere 

My God, thou hast forgotten me in and spake: 

my death : " O me, my King, let pass whatever 

Nay — God my Christ — I pass but will, 

shall not die." Elves, and the harmless glamour of 

the field; 

Then, ere that last weird battle in But in their stead thy name and glory 

the west, cling 

There came on Arthur sleeping, To all high places like a golden 

Gawain kill'd cloud 

In Lancelot's war, the ghost of For ever: but as yet thou shalt not 

Gawain blown pass. 

Along a wandering wind, and past Light was Gawain in life, and light 

his ear in death 

Went shrilling, " Hollow, hollow all Is Gawain, for the ghost is as the 

delight! man; 

Hail, King! to-morrow thou shalt And care not thou for dreams from 

pass away. him, but rise — 

Farewell! there is an isle of rest for I hear the steps of Mod red in the 

thee. west, 

And I am blown along a wandering And with him many of thy people, 

wind, and knights 

And hollow, hollow, hollow all de- Once thine, whom thou hast loved, 

light." but grosser grown 



384 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



Than heathen, spitting at their vows 

and thee. 
Right well in heart they know thee 

for the King. 
Arise, go forth and conquer as of 

old." 

Then spake King Arthur to Sir 

Bedivere : 
" Far other is this battle in the west 
Whereto we move, than when we 

strove in youth, 
And brake the petty kings, and fought 

with Rome, 
Or thrust the heathen from the 

Roman wall. 
And shook him thro' the north. Ill 

doom is mine 
To war against my people and my 

knights. 
The king who fights his people fights 

himself. 
And they my knights, who loved me 

once, the stroke 
That strikes them dead is as my death 

to me. 
Yet let us hence, and find or feel a 

way 
Thro' this blind haze, which ever 

since I saw 
One lying in the dust at Almesbury, 
Hath folded in the passes of the 

world." 

Then rose the King and moved his 
host by night, 

And ever push'd Sir Modred, league 
by league. 

Back to the sunset bound of Lyon- 
nesse — 

A land of old upheaven from the 
abyss 

By fire, to sink into the abyss again ; 

Where fragments of forgotten peo- 
ples dwelt, 

And the long mountains ended in a 
coast 



Of ever-shifting sand, and far away 
The phantom circle of a moaning sea. 
There the pursuer could pursue no 

more, 
And he that fled no further fly the 

King ; 
And there, that day when the great 

light of heaven 
Burn'd at his lowest in the rolling 

year, 
On the waste sand by the waste sea 

they closed. 
Nor ever yet had Arthur fought a 

fight 
Like this last, dim, weird battle of 

the west. 
A deathwhite mist slept over sand 

and sea: 
Whereof the chill, to him who 

breathed it, drew 
Down with his blood, till all his heart 

was cold 
With formless fear; and ev'n on Ar- 
thur fell 
Confusion, since he saw not whom he 

fought. 
For friend and foe were shadows in 

the mist. 
And friend slew friend not knowing 

whom he slew ; 
And some had visions out of golden 

youth. 
And some beheld the faces of old 

ghosts 
Look in upon the battle; and in the 

mist 
Was many a noble deed, many a base, 
And chance and craft and strength 

in single fights, 
And ever and anon with host to host 
Shocks, and the splintering spear, the 

hard mail hewn. 
Shield-breakings, and the clash of 

brands, the crash 
Of battleaxes on shatter'd helms, and 

shrieks 
After the Christ, of those who falling 

down 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 



38s 



Look'd up for heaven, and only saw The voice of days of old and days 

the mist; to be. 

And shouts of heathen and the traitor 



knights, 
Oaths, insult, filth, and monstrous 

blasphemies. 
Sweat, writhings, anguish, laboring 

of the lungs 
In that close mist, and cryings for the 

light, 
Moans of the dying, and voices of the 

dead. 



Then spake King Arthur to Sir 

Bedivere, 
And whiter than the mist that all day 

long 
Had held the field of battle was the 

King: 



" Hearest thou this great voice that 
shakes the world. 
And wastes the narrow realm where- 
Last, as by some one deathbed after . , ?" ^^^ move, , , , , 
„,^;i And beats upon the faces of the dead, 
vv ail i\ /r J J u ' I 11 1 • I 



Of suffering, silence follows, or thro' 
death 

Or death-like swoon, thus over all 
that shore, 

Save for some whisper of the seeth- 
ing seas, 

A dead hush fell ; but when the dolor- 
ous day, 



My dead, as tho' they had not died 

for me ? — 
O Bedivere, for on my heart hath 

fall'n 
Confusion, till I know not what I 

am, 
Nor whence I am, nor whether I be 

King. 



Grew drearier toward twilight fall- ^"h°^/' } ,^^^"^ ^ut King among the 
ing, came ^^^^• 



A bitter wind, clear from the North, 

and blew 
The mist aside, and with that wind 

the tide 
Rose, and the pale King glanced 

across the field 
Of battle: but no man was moving 

there ; 
Nor any cry of Christian heard 

thereon. 
Nor yet of heathen ; only the wan 

wave 
Brake in among dead faces, to and 

fro 
Swaying the helpless hands, and up 

and down 
Tumbling the hollow helmets of the 

fallen. 



Then spake the bold Sir Bedivere: 

" My King, 
King everywhere! and so the dead 

have kings, 
There also will I worship thee as 

King. 
Yet still thy life is whole, and still I 

live 
Who love thee ; but who hates thee, 

he that brought 
The heathen back among us, yonder 

stands, 
Modred, unharm'd, the traitor of 

thine house." 

Then spake the King: " My house 
hath been my doom. 



And shiver'd brands that once had But call not thou this traitor of my 

fought with Rome, house 

And rolling far along the gloomy Who hath but dwelt beneath one roof 

shores with me. 



386 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



My house are rather they who sware 

my vows, 
Yea, even while they brake them, 

own'd me King. 
And well for thee, saying in my dark 

hour. 
When all the purport of my throne 

hath fail'd, 
That quick or dead thou holdest me 

for King. 
King am I, whatsoever be their cry; 
And one last act of kinghood shalt 

thou see 
Yet, ere I pass." And uttering this 

the King 
Made at the man: then Modred 

smote his liege 
Hard on that helm which many a 

heathen sword 
Had beaten thin ; while Arthur at one 

blow, 
Striking the last stroke with Excali- 

bur. 
Slew him, and all but slain himself, 

he fell. 



So all day long the noise of battle 

roU'd 
Among the mountains by the winter 

sea; 
Until King Arthur's Table, man by 

man. 
Had fall'n in Lyonnesse about their 

lord, 
King Arthur. Then, because his 

wound was deep, 
The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him. 
And bore him to a chapel nigh the 

field, 
A broken chancel with a broken cross, 
That stood on a dark strait of barren 

land: 
On one side lay the Ocean, and on 

one 
Lay a great water, and the moon was 

full. 



Then spake King Arthur to Sir 

Bedivere : 
" The sequel of to-day unsolders all 
The goodliest fellowship of famous 

knights 
Whereof this world holds record. 

Such a sleep 
They sleep — the men I loved. I 

think that we 
Shall never more, at any future time, 
Delight our souls with talk of 

knightly deeds, 
Walking about the gardens and the 

halls 
Of Camelot, as in the days that were. 
I perish by this people which I 

made, — 
Tho' Merlin sware that I should 

come again 
To rule once more ; but, let what will 

be, be, 
I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm 
That without help I cannot last till 

morn. 
Thou therefore take my brand Ex- 

calibur. 
Which was my pride: for thou re- 

memberest how 
In those old days, one summer noon, 

an arm 
Rose up from out the bosom of the 

lake, 
Clothed in white samite, mystic, won- 
derful. 
Holding the sword — and how I 

row'd across 
And took it, and have worn it, like 

a king; 
And, wheresoever I am sung or told 
In aftertime, this also shall be known : 
But now delay not: take Excalibur, 
And fling him far into the middle 

mere: 
Watch what thou seest, and lightly 

bring me word." 

To him replied the bold Sir Bedi- 
vere: 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 



387 



" It is not meet, Sir King, to leave 

thee thus, 
Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the 

helm — 
A little thing may harm a wounded 

man ; 
Yet I thy hest will all perform at 

full, 
Watch what I see, and lightly bring 

thee word." 

So saying, from the ruin'd shrine 
he stept 

And in the moon athwart the place 
of tombs. 

Where lay the mighty bones of an- 
cient men, 

Old knights, and over them the sea- 
wind sang 

Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. 
He, stepping down 

By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed 
rock, 

Came on the shining levels of the 
lake. 

There drew he forth the brand Ex- 
calibur. 

And o'er him, drawing it, the winter 
moon, 

Brightening the skirts of a long 
cloud, ran forth 

And sparkled keen with frost against 
the hilt: 

For all the haft twinkled with dia- 
mond sparks, 

Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth- 
work 

Of subtlest jewelry. He gazed so 
long 

That both his eyes were dazzled as 
he stood. 

This way and that dividing the swift 
mind, 

In act to throw: but at the last it 
seem'd 

Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd 



There in the many-knotted water- 
flags, 

That whistled stiff and dry about the 
marge. 

So strode he back slow to the 
wounded King. 

Then spake King Arthur to Sir 

Bedivere : 
" Hast thou perform'd my mission 

which I gave? 
WTiat is it thou hast seen? or what 

hast heard ? " 

And answer made the bold Sir 

Bedivere : 
" I heard the ripple washing in the 

reeds. 
And the wild water lapping on the 

crag. 

To whom replied King Arthur, 

faint and pale: 
" Thou hast betray'd thy nature and 

thy name, 
Not rendering true answer, as be- 

seem'd 
Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight: 
For surer sign had foUow'd, either 

hand. 
Or voice, or else a motion of the 

mere. 
This is a shameful thing for men to 

lie. 
Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go 

again. 
As thou art lief and dear, and do 

the thing 
I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring 

me word." 

Then went Sir Bedivere the sec- 
ond time 

Across the ridge, and paced beside 
the mere, 

Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in 
thought; 



388 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

But when he saw the wonder of the So spake he, clouded with his own 

hilt, conceit, 

How curiously and strangely chased, And hid Excalibur the second time, 

he smote And so strode back slow to the 

His palms together, and he cried wounded King. 

aloud : 

Then spoke King Arthur, breath- 

" And if indeed I cast the brand ing heavily : 

away, " What is it thou hast seen? or what 

Surely a precious thing, one worthy hast heard?" 

note, 

Should thus be lost forever from the And answer made the bold Sir 

earth, Bedivere: 

Which might have pleased the eyes " I heard the water lapping on the 

of many men. crag. 

What good should follow this, if And the long ripple washing in the 

this were done? reeds." 
What harm, undone? Deep harm 

to disobey. To whom replied King Arthur, 

Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. much in wrath : 

Were it well to obey then, if a king " Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, 

demand Unknightly, traitor-hearted ! Woe is 

An act unprofitable, against him- me! 

self? Authority forgets a dying king, 

The King is sick, and knows not Laid widow'd of the power in his 

what he does. eye 

What record, or what relic of iny That bow'd the will. I see thee 

lord what thou art. 

Should be to aftertime, but empty For thou, the latest-left of all my 

breath knights. 

And rumors of a doubt? But were In whom should meet the offices of 

this kept, all. 

Stored in some treasure-house of Thou wouldst betray me for the 

mighty kings, precious hilt; 

Some one might show it at a joust Either from lust of gold, or like a 

of arms, girl 

Saying, * King Arthur's sword, Ex- Valuing the giddy pleasure of the 

calibur, eyes. 

Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Yet, for a man may fail in duty 

Lake. twice. 

Nine years she w^rought it, sitting in And the third time may prosper, get 

the deeps thee hence: 

Upon the hidden bases of the hills.' But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, 

So might some old man speak in the I will arise and slay thee with my 

aftertime hands." 
To all the people, winning reverence. 

But now much honor and much Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, 

fame were lost." and ran, 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 



389 



And, leaping down the ridges lightly, Then with both hands I flung him, 

plunged wheeling him ; 

Among the bulrush beds, and But when I look'd again, behold an 

clutch'd the sword, arm, 

And strongly wheel'd and threw it. Clothed in white samite, mystic, 

The great brand wonderful. 

Made lightnings in the splendor of That caught him by the hilt, and 

the moon, brandish'd him 

And flashing round and round, and Three times, and drew him under in 

whirl'd in an arch, the mere." 

Shot like a streamer of the northern And answer made King Arthur, 

mom, breathing hard : 

Seen where the moving isles of win- "My end draws nigh; 'tis time that 

ter shock I were gone. 

By night, with noises of the North- Make broad thy shoulders to receive 

ern Sea. my weight, 

So flash'd and fell the brand Excal- And bear me to the margin ; yet I 

ibur : fear 

But ere he dipt the surface, rose an My wound hath taken cold, and I 



Clothed in white samite, mystic, won- 
derful, 

And caught him by the hilt, and 
brandish'd him 

Three times, and drew him under in 
the mere. 

And lightly went the other to the 
King. 



shall die. 



So saying, from the pavement he 

half rose. 
Slowly, with pain, reclining on his 

arm. 
And looking wistfully with wide blue 

eyes 
As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere 
Remorsefully regarded thro' his 

tears, 
And would have spoken, but he 
w see I bv thine eyes that this ^, ^°""^ not words; 
is done ' ^°° ^^'^ ^^^^' ^ kneehng 

on one knee, 
O'er both his shoulders drew the lan- 
guid hands. 
And rising bore him thro' the place 

of tombs. 



Then spoke King Arthur, drawing 

thicker breath : 
"Now 

is 
Speak out: what is it thou hast 

heard, or seen? " 



And answ^er made the bold Sir 
Bedivere: 
*' Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest 
the gems 



But, as he walk'd. King Arthur 
panted hard, 



Should blind my purpose, for I never Like one that feels a nightmare on 



saw, 



his bed 



Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till When all the house is mute. So 
I die, ^ ^ sigh'd the King, 

Not tho' I live three lives of mortal Muttering and murmuring at his 
men, ear, " Quick, quick ! 

So great a miracle as yonder hilt. I fear it is too late, and I shall die." 



390 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

But the other swiftly strode from So to the barge they came. There 

ridge to ridge, those three Queens 

Clothed with his breath, and looking, Put forth their hands, and took the 

as he walk'd, King, and wept. 

Larger than human on the frozen But she, that rose the tallest of them 

hills. all 

He heard the deep behind him, and And fairest, laid his head upon her 

a cry lap. 

Before. His own thought drove And loosed the shatter'd casque, and 

him like a goad. chafed his hands, 

Dry clash'd his harness in the icy And call'd him by his name, com- 

caves plaining loud. 

And barren chasms, and all to left And dropping bitter tears against a 

and right brow 

The bare black cliff clang'd round Striped with dark blood: for all his 

him, as he based face was white 

His feet on juts of slippery crag that And colorless, and like the wither'd 

rang moon 

Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed Smote by the fresh beam of the 

heels — springing east; 

And on a sudden, lo! the level lake, And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd 
And the long glories of the winter with drops 

moon. Of onset; and the light and lustrous 

curls — 

Then saw they how there hove a That made his forehead like a rising 

dusky barge, sun 

Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to High from the dais-throne — were 

stern, parch'd with dust; 

Beneath them ; and descending they Or, clotted into points and hanging 

were ware loose, 

That all the decks were dense with Mix'd with the knightly growth 

stately forms, that fringed his lips. 

Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a So like a shatter'd column lay the 

dream — by these King; 

Three Queens with crowns of gold : Not like that Arthur who, with lance 

and from them rose in rest, 

A cry that shiver'd to the tingling From spur to plume a star of tourna- 

stars, ment, 

And, as it were one voice, an agony Shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and 
Of lamentation, like a wind that charged 

shrills Before the eyes of ladies and of 
All night in a waste land, where no kings. 

one comes, 
Or hath come, since the making of 

the world. Then loudly cried the bold Sir 

Bedivere : 

Then murmur'd Arthur, " Place " Ah ! my Lord Arthur, whither shall 

me in the barge." I go? 



THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 391 

Where shall I hide my forehead and That nourish a blind life within the 

my eyes? brain, 

For now I see the true old times are If, knowing God, they lift not hands 

dead, of prayer 

When every morning brought a Both for themselves and those who 

noble chance, call them friend? 

And every chance brought out a For so the whole round earth is 

noble knight. every way 

Such times have been not since the Bound by gold chains about the feet 

light that led of God. 

The holy Elders with the gift of But now farewell. I am going a 

myrrh. long way 

But now the whole Round Table is With these thou seest — if indeed I 

dissolved go _ j • u 

Which was an image of the mighty — For all my mind is clouded with a 

world, doubt— . . .,. 

And I, the last, go forth companion- To the island-valley of Avdion; 

less Where falls not hail, or rain, or 

And the days darken round me, and any snow, 

the years. Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it 

Among new men, strange faces, other lies 

j^inds." Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with 

orchard lawns 
And bowery hollows crown'd with 

And slowly answer'd Arthur from summer sea, 

the barge : Where I will heal me of my grievous 

" The old order changeth, yielding wound." 

place to new. 

And God fulfils himself in many g^ ^^jj ^^^ ^^^ ^^xe barge with oar 

ways, and sail 

Lest one good custom should corrupt ^^^^^^ fj-om the brink, like some 

the world. full-breasted swan 

Comfort thyself: what comfort is in ^^^^^ fluting a wild carol ere her 

me? _ death, 

I have lived my life, and that which r^^^s ^er pure cold plume, and 

I have done ,, , , takes the flood 

May He within himself make pure ! ^j^j^ swarthy webs. Long stood Sir 

but thou, Bedivere 

If thou shouldst never see my face Revolving ^any memories, till the 

again, hull 

Pray for my soul. More things are ^ook'd one black dot against the 

wrought by prayer ^^j-g^ ^f j^wn, 

Than this world dreams of. ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^.^ ^^e wailing died 

Wherefore, let thy voice ^^^^^ 
Rise like a fountain for me night and 

For whit are men better than sheep But when that moan had past for 

or goats evermore, 



392 



IDYLLS OF THE KING 



The stillness of the dead world's 

winter dawn 
Amazed him, and he groan'd, " The 

King is gone." 
And therewithal came on him the 

weird rhyme, 
" From the great deep to the great 

deep he goes." 



Whereat he slowly turn'd and 
slowly clomb 

The last hard footstep of that iron 
crag; 

Thence mark'd the black hull mov- 
ing yet, and cried, 

" He passes to be King among the 
dead, 

And after healing of his grievous 
wound 

He comes again ; but — if he comes 
no more — 

O me, be yon dark Queens in yon 
black boat. 

Who shrlek'd and wail'd, the three 
whereat we gazed 

On that high day, when, clothed 
with living light. 

They stood before his throne in si- 
lence, friends 



Of Arthur, who should help him at 
his need? " 

Then from the dawn it seem'd 

there came, but faint 
As from beyond the limit of the 

world, 
Like the last echo born of a great 

cry, 
Sounds, as if some fair city were 

one voice 
Around a king returning from his 

wars. 

Thereat once more he moved 

about, and clomb 
Ev'n to the highest he could climb, 

and saw. 
Straining his eyes beneath an arch 

of hand, 
Or thought he saw, the speck that 

bare the King, 
Down that long water opening on 

the deep 
Somewhere far off, pass on and on, 

and go 
From less to less and vanish into 

light. 
And the new sun rose bringing the 

new year. 



TO THE QUEEN 



O LOYAL to the royal in thyself. 

And loyal to thy land, as this to 
thee — 

Bear witness, that rememberable 
day. 

When, pale as yet, and fever-worn, 
the Prince 

Who scarce had pluck'd his flicker- 
ing life again 

From halfway down the shadow of 
the grave. 

Past with thee thro' thy people and 
their love, 



And London roll'd one tide of joy 
thro' all 

Her trebled millions, and loud 
leagues of man 

And welcome! witness, too, the si- 
lent cry. 

The prayer of many a race and creed, 
and clime — 

Thunderless lightnings striking under 
sea 

From sunset and sunrise of all thy 
realm, 



TO THE QUEEN 393 

And that true North, whereof we Ideal manhood closed In real man, 

lately heard Rather than that gray king, whose 
A strain to shame us, " Keep you to name, a ghost, 

yourselves; Streams like a cloud, man-shaped, 
So loyal is too costly! friends — your from mountain peak, 

love And cleaves to cairn and cromlech 
Is but a burthen: loose the bond, and still; or him 

go." Of Geoffrey's book, or him of Mall- 
Is this the tone of empire? here the eor's, one 

faith Touch'd by the adulterous finger of 
That made us rulers ? this, indeed, a time 

her voice That hover'd between war and wan- 
And meaning, whom the roar of tonness, 

Hougoumont And crownings and dethronements: 
Left mightiest of all peoples under take withal 

heaven? Thy poet's blessing, and his trust that 
What shock has fool'd her since, that Heaven 

she should speak Will blow the tempest in the distance 
So feebly? wealthier — wealthier — back 

hour by hour! From thine and ours: for some are 
The voice of Britain, or a sinking scared, who mark, 

land, Or wisely or unwisely, signs of storm. 

Some third-rate isle half-lost among Waverings of every vane with every 

her seas? wind. 

There rang her voice, when the full And wordy trucklings to the transient 

city peal'd hour, 

Thee and thy Prince! The loyal to And fierce or careless looseners of 

their crown the faith, 

Are loyal to their own far sons, who And Softness breeding scorn of sim- 

love pie life, 

Our ocean-empire with her boundless Or Cowardice, the child of lust for 

homes gold. 

For ever-broadening England, and Or Labor, with a groan and not a 

her throne voice. 

In our vast Orient, and one isle, one Or Art with poisonous honey stol'n 

isle, from France, 

That knows not her own greatness: And that which knows, but careful 

if she knows for itself, 

And dreads it we are fall'n. — But And that which knows not, ruling 

thou, my Queen, that which knows 

Not for itself, but thro' thy living To its own harm: the goal of this 

love great world 

For one to whom I made it o'er his Lies beyond sight : j'et — if our 

grave slowly-grown 

Sacred, except this old imperfect And crown'd Republic's crowning 

tale common-sense. 

New-old, and shadowing Sense at That saved her many times, not fail 

war with Soul — their fears 



SEP 5 1912 



394 IDYLLS OF THE KING 

Are morning shadows huger than The darkness of that battle in the 

the shapes West, 

That cast them, not those gloomier Where all of high and holy dies 

which forego away. 



